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“Careful, Crowne, you almost passed for a gentleman.” I grin as he scowls at me, fidgeting with the collar of his fitted tux.

“Let’s get you some old-fashioned therapy,” I suggest. “What are you drinking?”

He tilts his empty rocks glass my way. “Whiskey.”

“I’ll join you,” I say, nodding toward the bartender to add to my order before tossing a bill in his tip jar. Drinks in hand, we both sip our whiskey as our wives—who are standing on opposite sides of the reception hall—spot us at the bar, their expressions a mix of fear and intrigue. I stifle my grin by taking a long sip of my drink.

“They’re nervous as hell right now,” Reid mutters, his tone just as amused as he keeps a straight face.

“This is too good. It’s like they’re expecting a full-on brawl,” I agree, trying like hell to keep my cool as Stella watches us carefully like we’re zoo animals.

“It’s amazing how helpless they think we are,” Reid says.

“Little do they know,” I say, turning back toward the bar, no longer able to hide my smile. Reid follows suit as we both let them slip. Under the radar, I clink my glass to his. “Should we keep them guessing?”

“Maybe a little longer,” he says. “This is too good.”

The bartender flits his attention behind us, and we take the cue and step aside to allow the guests their turn at the bar. Though the wedding is on the smaller scale, the hall is filled to the brim with friends and family from both sides—some of whom I have yet to meet. My eyes drift toward familiar when I spot Lexi and Ben, who are slow dancing on the floor.

“Are they ever going to get it together?” I ask. Reid follows my line of sight and the lift of my chin. I’m all too aware of Lexi and Ben’s drama, having firsthand witnessed Lexi’s state in the aftermath of her and Ben’s initial breakup, along with following the headlines they’ve made over the years.

“Ben has had a diamond in his pocket since the day after we played at the Super Bowl,” Reid chuckles. “I have no doubt it will be on her finger one day soon. And she’ll marry him and throw it back at him a hundred times before we finally toss them in the gravetogether. To be honest, right now, they’re the least of my worries. I’m seeing a lot more drama unfolding than those two can toss at us tonight.”

“Do tell,” I say, circling the whiskey in my glass before taking a sip.

“Benji,” he prompts, and I follow his line of sight to see Ben and Lexi’s tuxedo-clad son standing on the side of the dance floor, his posture relaxed, his expressionlivid.

“Oh, I see him, and he’s foaming at the mouth at—”

“Easton’s bodyguard.”

“Joel,” I toss in. “Yeah, I’ve met him. Good man, oh shit, Isee,” I reiterate, spotting Joel on the dance floor with Rye’s daughter, Rian, their body language making it clear they’re sharing more than a friendly dance.

Reid exhales harshly, “We should fucking pop some popcorn and wait this out because we’ve got the best seats in the house.”

“It’s never easy, is it?” I shake my head as our eyes focus on Easton and Natalie, who are in the middle of the dance floor nose to nose, swaying to the guitar-fueled melody of “Sleep Walk,” completely oblivious of the world around them.

“They have no idea what they’re in for,” Reid says, a father’s concern in his voice.

“They havesomeidea,” I remind him.

“Yeah, that’s true.” He glances over at me. “We did a good thing, man.”

“More than one,” I say as Easton dips and whispers to Natalie, and she beams up at him in response before her smile grows impossibly brighter. “I’m pretty sure we can thank Stella’s cosmic influence on both of them. Otherwise, we couldn’t have pulled it off.”

“Still,” he says, “it was a stroke of genius to throw them in the blender in Mexico.”

“Yes, it was,” I say with a chuckle. “Stella can replace theFin fate with anN,” I muse, tossing back more whiskey.

“Still no way to make sense of how they ended up together in the first place,” Reid states with a bewildered tone.

“I can’t deny that—At. Fucking. All. Can’t say it didn’t play a part, either.”

Reid glances over at me. “What if it hadn’t worked out?”

“We can only do so much, right? God knows we made our own mistakes.”

“Truth,” he says, slowly lifting his chin to Stella to ease her worry just before I catch Addie’s eye and give her a slow wink.

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