Page 4 of More For Me

“So you’re satisfied with this bestie thing you have going on with our cousin?” River presses.

“Yup.”

They all stare at me, not buying it for a second.

“Look, I’m not saying I would never want anything to happen,” I continue. “I’m just saying now isn’t the time.”

“You’ve been saying that for the last two years,” Fox says.

There’s a knock on the door and relief rushes over me when Paige sticks her head through. “Bodhi, the archway flowers are all screwed up and—oh, Leo! You look so handsome!”

She sweeps into the room and throws her arms around him. Leo, the guy who sees most hugs as an act of torture, actually hugs her back. Paige Ransome is a force of nature. It’s pretty difficult not to be swept up right alongside her.

“And you too,” she says, her gaze darting between her nephews. “You all look so handsome in these suits.” She dabs at her eyes. “My sweet little boys, all grown up.”

River grins at his aunt. “At the bachelor party last week, you told me you were glad we’re adults now so you wouldn’t feel guilty getting us hammered.”

She waves him away. “I drank gallons of margaritas at that party, River. I can’t be held accountable for the things that come out of my mouth when tequila is involved.”

She spins to face me, her expression switching back to tense. “The entire garland fell off the top of the arch.” She holds up her hands when she sees my panic. “I don’t think there’s any damage. I’m just not tall enough to put it back.” She rolls her eyes. “I tried to find myhusbandto help me, but he’s too busy being morose with his brothers.”

Fox laughs. “The last time I saw them, they were drinking bourbon straight from the bottle.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Leo mutters. Rose’s uncles aren’t exactly his biggest fans. As the first-born Ransom—besides Wyatt, who was eight when he met the family—she’s always been the favorite. Completely spoiled and fawned over. The Ransome brothers did not take kindly to the man who came in and stole their precious Rosie away.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Paige says, patting his shoulder. “No one has tried to lock you in a coat closet yet, right?”

He shoots a panicked look around at the guys. “Why do I feel like that was way too specific to be a joke?”

She waves her hands vaguely. “They’re all talk, Leo. I’m sure they don’t actually plan to put a sleeping pill in your drink so you don’t make it down the aisle.”

He looks at the whiskey in his hand then silently sets the glass on the coffee table.

“Better safe than sorry,” Fox agrees, slapping him on the back.

“Anyhow.” Paige turns back to me. “Can you help?”

“Sure.” I’m not exactly sorry for the excuse to leave the guys—and that particular conversation—behind.

The greenery arch takes about three minutes to put right. Since I’m out here, I take a lap around the space, checking to make sure everything is the way it should be. Paige and I gave Leo and Rose several choices for the venue, even though I was sure they were going to pick this one. The ancient whiskey distillery, with its brick walls and soaring exposed ceilings, is exactly the right vibe for them. And Paige and I made it look fucking amazing, if I do say so myself.

Since the seats are starting to fill up, I go back to the groom’s suite to wait with Leo. As close as he’s gotten with the Ransomes, I know he’s feeling nervous as hell right now. Sure enough, when I get back to the room, his normally tanned face is looking slightly green.

“I think we have time for a toast,” I say, grabbing the whiskey bottle. I top up their glasses and everyone stands. “To Leo, the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

He manages a grin, despite still looking slightly ill. “I’ll drink to that.”

“And as a special wedding present to you, I won’t get all sappy right now.” The other guys laugh.

“He’s saving it for his reception speech,” Will says.

“Seriously, though.” I meet Leo’s eyes. “This is gonna be great, man. The two of you are perfect together. I know you’ll be happy.” I raise my glass. “To Leo and Rose.”

“To Leo and Rose,” they echo. We clink our glasses and down the whiskey.

“Ah, fuck,” Leo mutters, looking at his empty glass. “I forgot about the sleeping pill.”

“What kind of best man would I be if I let Rose’s uncles spike your drink?”