He laughs as I scoop up the little blonde firecracker. “Rara!” she squeals, arms flailing as I spin her. She's decked out head-to-toe inPuck Couture, looking like a miniature runway queen. We dance like lunatics, me, Stella, then along comes a swarm of giggling kids and grown-ups who’ve lost all sense of rhythm and shame.
The music cuts out, and Maeve, Gabby’s maid of honor, raises her arms. “Time to toss the bouquet!”
Rip, naturally, is my best man andthe officiant. A multitasker with no off-switch. I scan the crowd for him. Where the heck did he go? I should be worried, right?
Gabby turns back to the line of hopeful singles. She lifts the bouquet, aims... And just as the flowers take flight, Rip walks out of the house, and gets smacked square in the face.
“What the…?” he mumbles, blinking as he catches the bouquet on reflex. The crowd bursts into laughter, but it’s not just because of the accidental catch.
It’s the Elvis costume. White bedazzled jumpsuit. Pompadour wig. Sunglasses.
I blink. “What the hellare you doing?”
Rip strikes a pose, bouquet in hand. “Does this mean I’m next?” he says, waggling his brows. “Too bad. I can’t marry myself.” He hands the flowers back to Gabby with exaggerated flair. She rolls her eyes and tosses them again.
This time, Maria catches them. The crowd cheers. I whip around to find Tuck—his jaw hanging open like he just saw the future. Which, honestly, maybe he did.
Rip steps into the spotlight again, clearly loving every second. “This isn’t Vegas,” he says, “but if anyone wants to tie the knot tonight…” He coughs into his fist. “Tuck and Maria.” Laughter erupts. He points both thumbs at himself. “Come see me.”
I shake my head, grinning. “No, Rip. Just…no.”
He winks, and I swear, Boston has no idea what’s coming for it.
But me? Well, I’ve got everything I need.
I glance around for my bride. She’s across the yard, laughing with Maeve, sunlight hitting the buttons running down her back like a trail of stars. My heart lurches.
Love doesn’t have to be perfect.
It just has to be her…
Now it’s time for me to move, because…buttons.
***
