“If he goes into the kitchen tomorrow I hope they put him to work,” said Damon. “Scrubbing pots and pans, or—”
“Any word from Finn?”
Damon’s sentence died in his throat. Very slowly, he shook his head. “No, no yet.”
“Yeah, well that’s Finn for you.”
Finnegan was our other best man. Or rather, he was supposed to have been. As it was, we hadn’t heard from him in about two weeks. The last we knew he was still somewhere on the other side of the ocean.
“He still doing that logging gig somewhere in Germany?” asked Saxon.
“Nah, he was on a fishing trawler last time I talked to him.”
I shook my head. “No, that job was seasonal. Last postcard we got, he was backpacking through Spain.”
I pointed to the wall, where more than a dozen colorful postcards were pinned to the cheap wood paneling of our apartment. Finn wasn’t always the best at keeping in touch, and never had the same phone number for more than a few months. But he still sent postcards, which I always found funny.
“Yeah, well… it’s not going to be the same without him,” said Damon glumly.
Saxon reached out and punched him softly in the shoulder. “Are you kidding? This wedding is gonna rock, man. Finn or no Finn. Besides… you’ve already got the greatest best man on the whole planet. Me.”
He splayed his fingers and pressed them against his broad chest, where his shirt was unbuttoned down to his navel. My eyes couldn’t help but crawl their way over his incredible pecs and abs. Each individual muscle was so beautifully hard and rigid, it seemed sculpted out of clay.
“I’m not so sure we can actually trust your opinion,” I quipped, forcing my gaze back up to the best man’s equally gorgeous face.
“And why’s that?”
“Because you chose to stay here tonight,” I chuckled merrily. “On that contraption.”
I pointed to the jagged black-iron deathtrap that doubled as our futon. It was already unfolded and made up with clean sheets. Even so, I would’ve rather slept on the floor.
“Hey, the price was right,” Saxon smiled. “Free is free, right? Besides, staying here gave me a little more time to hang with you guys.” He and Damon fist-bumped for the sixth or seventh time in the last twelve hours. “Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
As cheesy as the fist-bumping was, it was also cute… maybe even touching. Damon and Saxon had grown up quite literally across the street from each other. Throughout their entire childhood they’d been like brothers — totally and completely inseparable. Practically even the same person, if the stories were to be believed.
And as if that weren’t enough, the same went for Finn as well. Though their crazier friend lived a few blocks away, the trio shared a thousand richly-detailed stories — each one funnier than the last. Most of them involving trouble of course, but I was always kind of addicted to guys who found trouble.
“You sure you don’t want the couch?” Damon was asking.
“You mean loveseat?” laughed Saxon. “C’mon bro, I’m not folding my body in half to fit on that thing!”
In the three years Damon and I had been together, I’d seen Saxon and Finn a half dozen times each. Every visit made me just a little more jealous of the bond the three of them shared. But Saxon was a successful chef now, working a series of high-end restaurants in Las Vegas. And Finn was, well…
Finn was Finn.
“Holy shit it’s one-thirty.”
We all looked at the clock at the same time. The wedding was mere hours away now, instead of weeks or months. It made me think back to all the planning. All the saving and stressing and anticipation that at times, drove the two of us absolutely nuts.
Damon had been a rock, though. I couldn’t complain. And now that it was all said and done? The two of us could kick back and finally enjoy the day. And even more so, the honeymoon that came afterward.
“We should probably turn in.”
My soon-to-be husband nodded, then turned my way. Our eyes met and we shared a sly, secret smile.
“’Night then,” said Saxon, stretching his long arms. I could tell he wasn’t tired. The time difference between Nevada and New York would keep him up another hour or so, probably screwing around on his phone.
We hugged our friend on the way through to the bedroom. My own embrace might’ve lingered an extra second or two, as I admittedly enjoyed the feel of Saxon’s hard body pressed against mine. But hey, I was still a single girl. For a few more hours, anyway.