She’d blown in with a stiff breeze. It’d been impossible not to notice her, all flushed skin, bright blue eyes, and sculpted legs.
I wasn’t the only one whose attention she’d grabbed. Dane had also been there that night. So had Vale Hilliard. And some asshole with a diamondback tattoo, who’d later helped Vale and Wayne Horton to terrorize her on-site at 10,000 Lux.
Fifteen minutes in that bar had set a series of dangerous games into play. Regardless, I hadn’t been able to convince Ari that Dane was the wrong man for her.
The next wedding I’d attended was hers. A small affair in their creekside backyard. Six guests total, plus Rosa. I’d thought that was pretty pathetic. Ari was a wedding planner, after all.
My third wedding in less than two years—really, guys don’t dig this shit—was about the most absurd event imaginable.
The aisle had to be a mile long and was flanked by huge arrangements of red roses and deep-green leaves and white fluff. Lots of fluff. Candles galore. Like set the whole damn courtyard on fire, galore. Decorative lanterns hung from iron stakes of various heights along the perimeter, the gardens, the fountains. Clear twinkle lights had been wrapped around all of the tree trunks. There was fruity music that I supposed women found romantic. They all seemed to gush over the decorations and flowers and, yes, the harpist and piani
st.
My gaze swept over the small conglomerations as they crossed to the event lawn and selected seats. Some attractive blondes. Several pretty brunettes. A couple of fiery redheads.
Yeah, it was time I dated again. I definitely had to get over Ari.
After all, this was her wedding.
Again.
“Time for the best man to perform his duties.”
I turned to find Tamera Fenmore, a leggy blonde with a sassy British accent, heading my way with a pearl-white smile on her face. She had big, tawny eyes and high, defined cheekbones. I’d put her in the knockout category and ask her to have dinner with me if I had half a brain.
“What do you say?” she asked as she straightened my tie.
Not the standard bow tie, but some fancy silk thing she made sure was tucked neatly into my vest. It was a formal black-and-white wedding. I felt as though I should be on a movie set with Pierce Brosnan. But Ari was finally getting the wedding of her dreams, so I couldn’t complain. Too much.
“I think I can handle the redo,” I said of the nuptials. “If it makes Ari happy.”
“She’s deliriously happy. Perhaps the tiniest bit tipsy, but what the hell. She’s earned the right.”
I couldn’t deny that.
“So,” Tamera continued, “Grace will be at the altar, too, just like at last night’s rehearsal.”
Definitely a pretty brunette. She’d also been at the bar that fateful night I’d met Ari. Grace had been the one serving the tequila shots, as a matter of fact.
“You don’t have to arrange Ari’s monstrously long train or hold her bouquet. Grace will handle all that. But you do have to wipe the scowl from your face and pretend you’re not annoyed she’s getting married. Really, Kyle. She’s already married, so…”
“I know, I know.” I cleared my throat, squared my shoulders, bucked up.
“Ah.” Tamera beamed. “Much better. You know, you’re really quite handsome when you’re not skulking about.”
“I don’t skulk.”
“Oh, really?” She shot me a challenging look.
I laughed. “Fine. Whatever. Can we just, you know, get this over with?”
“No rush. This is Ari’s big day. Guests are still filing in. The event staff members are having conniptions about, oh, everything, because they want absolute perfection. Dane’s sipping scotch with his people. Ari’s father is freaking out over being on such massive public display. All in all, I think we’re doing just lovely.”
“Maybe I ought to say a few words to the two-time bride-to-be.”
“That would be sensational. Let me take you to her.”
There were two tents erected for the bridal party—one for the men, one for the women.