A smile spread across his face, reminding me a little bit of the big bad wolf, and I steeled myself for what was to come. “Actually, his brother backed out of best man detail.”
I leaned forward and grabbed his shirtsleeve. “What? Gulliver must be mad as hell!”
He chuckled and took my hand off his arm to hold it. “No, it was for a good reason. Charity doesn’t have any family, right?” he asked, and I nodded. “Well, Jonathan doesn’t think it’s right that she has no one to give her away. So, he deferred the best man’s job to be the one to do that.”
I brought my hand to my chest in awe. “How sweet of him. Charity didn’t mention anything to me this afternoon, though.”
He swallowed his wine, and the smile was back on his face. “She’s probably finding out right about”—he checked his watch—”now. They were meeting them for dinner.”
“I mean, he probably could do both,” I reasoned. “It’s not like giving her away is an all-day job.”
Mathias tipped his head in agreement. “It’s not, but he also has a pregnant wife. He wants to be available to help her throughout the day with their son, so this works out for him.”
“Good point, but what is Gulliver going to do for a best man then?”
“You’re looking at him,” he said, puffing his chest out. “He asked me today. Said if he can’t have one brother, then he’ll ask the other.”
I groaned and let my head hit the table, the tip of my forehead hitting the plate and spilling what was left of my dinner. I bounced my forehead a couple of times against the glass top until his hand came down on my head.
“You’re going to break the table, beautiful, not to mention your head,” he scolded. “What’s the problem?”
Beautiful?Since when did he start calling me beautiful?
I lifted my head and stared him straight in the eye. “The problem is you being the best man!” I exclaimed, my arms flailing around in the air. “I told Charity I would be the maid of honor because you weren’t going to be the best man!”
“What does me being the best man have to do with it? It’s not like we’re the ones getting married.”
I rolled my eyes to the sky in frustration. “God forbid.”
He slid his hand across the table and took mine. “I don’t bite, and I don’t have cooties, Honey.”
“No, but you do kiss, at least once, and then it’s a wedding and romance, and—” I ripped my hand from his and waved it in the air. “Forget it, okay. I’m glad you can be there for Gulliver.”
He leaned back again but never took his hungry wolf eyes off me. “It’s not a big deal or anything. They’re getting married behind Butterfly Junction. That’s not exactly romance central.”
“That plan might have changed,” I said slowly so he didn’t get mad.
He set the wine bottle down after topping off his glass. “Gulliver specifically told me today they were getting married next week behind the office.”
“Plans changed. Gulliver should be finding out right about”—I checked my wrist to copy him, even though I wasn’t wearing a watch—”now.”
“Finding out what?” he asked, his foot, dressed in a black leather oxford shoe, tapping on the patio block. I loved how he was as comfortable in his suit and tie as he was in his sweatpants and T-shirt.
“That they’re getting married in the orchard,” I explained triumphantly. “That’s why Charity and I were there tonight!”
He waved his hand at his neck as if to sayno go. “The venue is booked for the entire summer. I hope you didn’t promise Charity without checking the books.”
I rolled my eyes, this time making sure he’d see me. “Give me some damn credit, Mathias. I’m not an idiot. They’re getting married on a Friday afternoon, so it was no problem to slide their ceremony into the orchard before rehearsal for the Saturday wedding.”
He bit his lip and dragged it through his teeth, something he did that always made my knees go weak, even when I didn’t want them to. “I don’t think they can just piggyback on the other couple’s plans, babe,” he said tenderly but with great pain. I dropped my head to the table and let it bounce again until he tugged it up by my ponytail. “Honey, seriously, you’re going to get brain damage.”
“That ship sailed, babe.” I meant to make the last word sarcastic, but the laughter that bubbled out of my chest was spontaneous at the thought of just how hard this was to wrap my brain around.
His brow lowered as if to warn me from cutting myself down, but all it did was give him a look of dirty sex in the dark of night. “Don’t start, woman.”
“Don’t start, woman,” I mimicked playfully until his other brow lowered, drawing out his sexiness to where I couldn’t take it any longer. I took a breath and let it back out, reminding my scrambled brain what the discussion was about. “Anyway, as I was saying, they aren’t going to, quote, piggyback on the other couple, end quote,” I added with emphasis, and he stuck his tongue out at me. It was long, silky, and pointed, making me wonder what it would feel like teasing certain areas of my suddenly hot-and-bothered body. I moaned and had to cover it with a cough. He saw right through it. I could tell by the way he licked his lips. “On second thought, I think I’ll make it a surprise. You can find out with the rest of the wedding party.”
He stood and braced his hands on the table’s edge, leaning over me like a hawk. “You are the rest of the wedding party, so tell me now.”
