“And you aren’t worried that it will disturb the balance of what you already have?” Logan asks, and a light goes on in my head.
Ding-ding-ding.
We have a winner.
Logan wants another kid.
Or maybe Bryn does.
Shit!
Or maybe they’re already pregnant.
That’s it. It has to be it. What else could have him so tied up in knots on a day I know he’s been itching for?
Next to me, Oliver’s phone buzzes, and he peers at a text.
His eyes spark, then he says, “I need to nip up to my room. Grab something Summer needs. Be right back.”
He drains the last of his beer and slips his cell into his pocket, then takes off for the elevator bank like there’s a herd of wildebeests on his tail.
I chat with the guys some more, but Logan still seems out of sorts.
I flash back again to Fitz’s wedding, to the day when Logan gave me those frank words—words I needed to hear.
Maybe he needs the same—a friend to give it to him straight.
I clap my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a lucky guy. And whatever’s on your mind right now, I know you and Bryn will work it out. You’re going to be a great husband.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.”
I lean closer, speaking quietly, “You’re a great dad too.”
He gives me a grateful nod. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
I shrug. “I’m only saying it because it’s true.”
As we finish our beers, I hope that my words give him the comfort and confidence he needs.
Just as he did for me several months ago.
Because that’s what friends do.
24
Summer
There’s no shame in ogling my husband.
Not as he’s coming out of the pool, those tight Speedos clinging to every bit of his body and revealing everything—and I do mean everything.
Not as he steps out of the shower in the morning.
And certainly not an hour before the wedding when he steps out of the elevator in that white button-down shirt and those pressed tan pants, his eyes screaming sex.
“You wanted me?” he asks, gesturing to his phone.
“I do. It’s an emergency so important I had to have you meet me here.” My eyes lust over his face then his body as the doors close behind him.
“What kind of emergency?” He slips the phone away and steps closer, a playful look in his eyes. “Whatever could you possibly need?”
I grab his hand and yank him toward our hotel room. “You.”
And thank the Lord for vacations and this perfect man of mine, because a midday O should be on every wife’s wish list.
“What brought that on?” Oliver asks a satisfying length of time later as he buttons up his fly. “Not that I’m complaining. I will never, ever complain about pre-wedding sex. Or any sex with you, for that matter.”
I shrug. “Can’t a woman just enjoy her husband’s body every now and then?”
“Absolutely she can. In fact, if we ever do a vow renewal, we should include it as part of the official contract.”
“Thou shalt have sex whenever thy wife wishes.” I wrap my arms around his neck and try to comb his just-fucked hair into submission.
“Thou shalt deliver multiple Os to thy wife whenever and wherever thou can,” he murmurs, and his mouth glides over mine in a kiss that I feel everywhere—my lips, my chest, then lower between my legs.
But before I can lose myself in contemplation of round two, I take his hand and use all my willpower to walk us back out into the corridor so we can support our friends before their special moment.
“How’s Logan?” I ask as we stroll along the hall. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as excited to get married as he is.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know I was desperate to put a ring on your finger.”
“Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course.” He stops and pulls me close, our bodies flush. But his eyes cloud over, and he bites down on his lip.
“What is it?”
He glances toward Bryn’s door, three rooms down from where we stand, then back to me. “Does Bryn seem okay to you?”
“Okay?” What’s he talking about?
“Has she been sick perhaps?” He clicks his fingers together. “Drinking. Did she have any cocktails at dinner last night?”
I shake my head. “She wanted to avoid a hangover.”
“Has she had any wine this morning at all, then? Some champagne perhaps?”
“No. But it’s barely twelve.” I step back and fold my arms across my chest. “What’s going on with you, Oliver?”
He winces. “It’s not what’s going on with me. It’s what’s going on with them.”
I wave my hand, encouraging him to continue. “Out with it, lover.”
He takes a deep breath. “Look, Logan said something, and . . . I think they might be pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” I widen my eyes. Could that be true?
I mean, technically, of course it could. And while Bryn has told me that they’re not looking to expand their family any time soon, I do understand that a penis plus a vagina can equal babies, even with protection.
