I glanced up at Emma and managed a real smile. “Thank you. For doing this for her.”
Emma’s expression softened, and for the first time, I felt like maybe she and I weren’t on opposite sides anymore.
41
HUDSON
Ihauled my overnight bag higher on my shoulder, already questioning my and Matty’s wedding planner choices. Rowan had insisted—insisted—that I spend the night before the wedding at his place. Something about tradition, bad luck, and how he would not have the first marriage he officiated in Bristlecone Springs cursed by groomly desperation. His words, not mine.
Beside me, Matty strolled like he had nothing to worry about, one hand in his pocket, the other brushing against mine every so often like he knew I was two seconds away from bolting. He’d been more at ease since we’d been informed Grant was in custody.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, shifting the bag again. “One night apart. Just one. We spend every night together, and suddenly it’s forbidden? How does that make any sense?”
Matty chuckled, that low rumble that always managed to steady me. “It’s called tradition, Hud. You’ll live.”
“Hah! You’re funny, thinking you’ll last longer. I bet by midnight, you’ll be ringing me up for a booty call.”
He shot me a sideways grin. “And youbetter pick up too.” He squeezed my ass. “It’s not my fault you’re so bootlicious.”
I scowled at him. “Don’t you ever say that again.”
Laughing, he pushed the doors open to Knot Your Average Wedding, stealing a kiss and nudging me to walk in ahead of him. Rowan met us in the waiting area, eyeing us suspiciously. Today he was wearing a lavender beret tipped at a jaunty angle, a fuzzy cardigan the shade of lilacs, and a pleated plaid skirt cinched with a belt of heart-shaped clasps. White knee-high socks with ruffles and chunky platform Mary Janes—each stamped with a pink heart—finished the look.
I could never pull off an outfit like that, but he looked stunning. If he kept it up, he wouldn’t have to worry about half the eligible bachelors of Bristlecone Springs running away whenever they saw him coming.
“About time,” he said, his sharp gaze snapping straight to the bag slung over my shoulder. “Packed and ready? We already have the suit and shoes at my place. Do you have proper grooming supplies? Tell me you didn’t just toss in a toothbrush and call it a day.”
“This bag’s bigger than the one I have packed for our honeymoon,” I said. “I added everything on that list you gave me. Thank God for Ozzie because I didn’t know what some of them meant.”
“All right, then. You”—he pointed at Matty—“shoo! We’ll see you tomorrow at the end of the aisle.”
I frowned. “I still don’t see whyIhave to be the one to walk down the aisle. Can’t we both just stand there in the first place?”
“Because, boo, nothing beats an entrance, and that’s gonna be you.”
“I don’t mind being the one to walk if you don’t want to,” Matty said.
“If one of us is walking down the aisle, it’s gonna be me.”
He threw his hands up. “Then why are we even talking about this?”
“Gentlemen, save the bickering for the honeymoon when you can argue, then grind. Makes for some hot sex, but as of right now, you two are celibate, so keep it zipped. Both the lipsandyour jeans.”
“Yes, sir.” Matty took a step back. “I guess that’s my cue to go.”
“Without kissing me?” I blurted out, then instantly regretted it when he grinned. Oh God, when had I become so desperate for this man’s kisses?
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Matty closed the gap between us and took my face in his hands. I expected a quick kiss good-bye, but he had other ideas, kissing me so hard and deep my knees nearly buckled. His mouth was hot and greedy, his tongue sweeping mine, spreading coals of fire through my veins. My hands clamped down on his waist, desperate, holding him tight as if letting go would mean falling apart.
When he finally pulled back, my chest was heaving and my pulse hammering out of control.
Rowan fanned himself dramatically, eyes wide. “Good Lord. If I were any closer, I’d have gone up in flames. That was hot.”
Matty chuckled, but I was still catching my breath, trying to decide whether I wanted to drag him back in for more or beg Rowan to lock us in together so I wouldn’t have to leave him tonight.
I stopped dead and pulled him close, ignoring Rowan’s exaggerated sigh from the doorway. I framed Matty’s face,brushing the corner of his mouth with my thumb. “Tomorrow,” I whispered, like the word itself was a lifeline.
