Page 6 of One Wild Wedding Weekend

Tristan ran a finger inside his collar and wondered if Tabby would mind him removing his tie. He was no stranger to suiting up at work. His friend and mentor Harold Dunn was old-school when it came to dress codes. But tonight, they were all outside, and though the temperature was only in the low eighties, the humidity was a bitch.

When Tristan saw John, he sighed inwardly. His brother was the definition of buttoned-up, even if Tabby had taught him to cut loose now and again. A quick glance around the tent verified that all the groomsmen were dressed to the nines.

Tristan was stuck with the tie.

The wedding director hadn’t convened everyone yet. John swore the woman wasn’t a dragon. She was efficient but could roll with the punches.

So far, everyone was chatting and laughing and enjoying the flutes of champagne provided by the inn. Tristan’s parents were seated. He saw that many of the group paused to pay their respects. His mom and dad had gotten a late start on parenthood and were in their midseventies, while Tabby and Daley’s folks were closer to sixty.

Tristan spotted Daley right off. She lit up the room, or at least the tent. Her long blond hair was caught up in a wavy ponytail that danced when she moved. Artful tendrils framed her laughing face. So far, Tristan was pretty sure she had chatted with everyone but him.

The bride was beautiful, as she should be, but in Tristan’s estimation, Tabby didn’t hold a candle to her older sister. Daley was vibrant and sexy. Her gorgeous body was showcased in a kick-ass dress.

When Tristan noticed two of John’s fraternity brothers chatting up the maid of honor, he ground his teeth. He wasn’t going to allow Daley Martin to ignore him. No way. They were a couple tonight, whether she liked it or not.

He didn’t pause to examine why her reticence bugged him so much. Nor did he expect every woman he met to like him.

But he understood sexual attraction, and he understood women. Usually...

When he appeared at Daley’s elbow, she seemed startled, as if she really had been shutting him out of her mind entirely. “How’s my date tonight?” he asked, smiling blandly at the other two men.

Daley frowned. “I’m not your date,” she said. The words were heated.

He whispered under his breath, “Amicable...”

Her face turned pink. Her brown eyes glowed with heat. She turned her attention back to the two hapless groomsmen. “I think we’re about to start,” she said. Linking an arm with each guy, she steered them toward the front of the tent, where a small podium had been decorated with lilies and greenery. “Tell me how you both met John.”

Tristan let them go, but he didn’t like it.

Before he could formulate a plan, the wedding coordinator put two fingers to her lips and whistled loudly. Laughter erupted in the tent. The six bridesmaids and their male counterparts hurried to take their places. Tristan and Daley made seven each.

The coordinator smiled. “Tabby and John are so glad you’re all here today. We’re going to make this rehearsal short and sweet. I’m hungry, and I know most of you are, too. The way this works is simple. First, we’re going to get everyone comfortable with your spots. We’ll practice walking out. Then back in. Then out one more time, and we’ll be done.”

The woman knew her stuff. Tristan was glad about that. She managed to corral her adult charges like a kindergarten teacher rounding up after recess. The ladies and Daley took their marks on the left. The men on the right. Tabby and John and the female minister stood in the middle.

The coordinator turned the ceremony over to the pastor, who briefly went over the various parts of the service. When that was done, the director cued the string quartet. “Now the recessional,” she said. “Bride and groom. Then the rest of you. Last in, first out.”

Tabby and John departed looking smugly happy. When it was Tristan’s turn, he offered his arm to Daley, grinning. His partner looked as if she would like to stick a knife between his shoulder blades. Every bit of her temper only made him want her more. That much passion—when focused in the bedroom—would be explosive.

Unfortunately, there was no opportunity for chitchat. As soon as the recessional was over, the director had them lining up again. This time, various groomsmen practiced seating the parents...and the grandparents who were able to attend.

Then the processional music began. Tristan had been to many weddings where the women walked down the aisle alone. But per Tabby’s wishes, the couples entered together. When it was Tristan and Daley’s turn, he squeezed her arm. “I can’t imagine doing this in front of hundreds of people. I’m glad our siblings wanted a small wedding.”

This time, Daley nodded. “Me too.”

They made it to the front without incident. Then, from the side, the minister and John entered and took their spots. The music changed, and Tabby started down the aisle holding her father’s arm. She had her eyes fixed on John the entire way. When Tristan glanced at his brother’s face, the naked emotion he saw there made his own throat tight.

What would it be like to have that bond with another person? Tristan had never come close. He didn’t think he ever would. He was probably too driven and too selfish to make room in his life for a family.

Daley was immune to his self-reflection. She watched her sister, beaming.

Mr. Martin handed off his daughter and sat down beside his wife.

The minister quickly repeated the order of the service. Tristan and Daley pretended to hand over the rings at the appropriate moment.

Then, it was time for one more practice...going out...again.

At the back of the tent, relief permeated the group.

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