One Last Time (Loveless Brothers 5)

“How big are we talking?” he asks, still twirling.

“Big,” I say, holding my hands about a foot apart. “Way bigger than real life. I think it took twenty hours, plus some for touchup.”

“But why?” he says, still clearly baffled. “Did he lose a bet? Did an eccentric uncle die and leave him millions of dollars, but in order to collect he had to get that tattoo?”

“I still don’t know,” I say, leaning my head on my hand again. I’m half-turned in my chair, facing Seth, elbow on the table. Dinner and speeches are finally over, people are mingling, and I think there’ll be dancing any moment now. “I kept trying to be subtle about asking, but I never got a good answer.”

“Did you try why are you getting a huge tattoo of a Snickers bar?”

“I didn’t think I could ask without sounding judgey,” I admit. “I mean, we had twenty hours alone together, and I kept trying to start conversations about it, like, so I guess you like Snickers? But he never cracked, and after the first session I figured my window had passed. Now I’ll never know.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t ask,” he says, shaking his head.

“Delilah!” someone calls, and I turn.

It’s Wyatt, weaving his way between two tables and ducking under some greenery, which isn’t quite tall enough for my cousin.

“Sooner or later I’m gonna take one of these things down by accident and ruin the whole shindig,” he says, glancing backward at the lovely evergreen arch.

“How’s the weather up there?” I ask him, still leaning on my fist.

“Hilarious,” he deadpans. “And original. How do you come up with these? Hi, I’m Wyatt. You’re the beer guy.”

He holds out his hand to Seth as he says that last part, and they shake.

“Seth,” Seth says.

“Yup,” confirms Wyatt. “Well, I’m sure your presence here is fine and not at all weird for Delilah.”

“Wyatt,” I say.

“Seems like she definitely knew you’d be here,” he goes on, Seth’s hand still clasped in his.

“Are you here for a reason?” I ask him.

“Oh, just checking in on my honorary little sister,” he says to me, then faces Seth. “That’s her, by the way.”

“I’m three years older than you,” I point out.

“She’s my favorite cousin,” he tells Seth.

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual,” Seth says.

“Right now I’m really leaning toward his sister, actually,” I say. “Wyatt. Can I help you?”

Clearly, Wyatt’s also had a few drinks. Not that I can blame him.

“Yeah,” he says, and finally lets Seth’s hand go.

For his part, Seth looks more entertained than anything.

“We’re putting cans and shit on the getaway car if you want to come help,” he says, jerking one thumb over his shoulder. “Georgia brought a fuckton of streamers. I think her goal is to get them pulled over before they hit the county line.”

I swivel and look at the rest of the table.

It’s empty. Oops. I was so absorbed in telling Seth about weird tattoos I’ve given people that I didn’t notice we were alone.

“Right, yes,” I say, rising.

To my credit, I only wobble slightly. See? The wine fairy would never overdo it. All hail the wine fairy.

“I should go do my bridesmaidly duty,” I tell Seth. “How will everyone on the road know they got married if I don’t?”

“Have fun,” he says, grinning.

“Behave yourself,” I say.

Then I point two finger guns at him. Finger guns. I blame the wine.

“Must I?” he asks, and fingerguns back at me.

It feels like a splinter of something works its way between my ribs, because there’s always a reminder. Always.

“Guess not!” I say, fifty percent too brightly, and then I turn and my dress swirls and I don’t look back as I take Wyatt’s arm and we walk away.

He ducks under the greenery again, then looks down at me.

“You know you don’t always have to say what everyone’s thinking, right?” I ask.

“I don’t have to, I choose to,” he says. “Someone oughta.”

“You could leave me out of it.”

Wyatt’s quiet for a moment as we wind between a few more tables, then emerge into the open space before the door.

“Everything is good, right?” he finally asks.

Fuck, I don’t know. Good seems like far too banal of a word for whatever’s going on right now, but it’s not exactly bad either, right?

“Delilah?”

We stop. I sigh.

“I’m going to murder Vera dead,” I tell him, matter-of-factly. “But I can wait until tomorrow so I don’t ruin Ava’s big day.”

Wyatt just raises one eyebrow, and I wave my hand dramatically.

“All shall be revealed in time,” I say, because I don’t have the emotional reserves to rehash it right now.

“Well, it’s very grown up to kill her later,” he says, and we start walking again.

“I strive for maturity in all scenarios,” I tell him.

Wyatt just snorts as he opens the door for me.Chapter FifteenSethBernadette rolls her eyes, the wine glass in her hand sloshing from side to side as she shifts her stance.