A Merry Vested Wedding

Gracie grabbed my arm, her eyes wild with panic. “You need to stop him, Brayden!”

“Too late, I’m afraid.” I murmured. “Even Aiden’s into it.”

“Oh god,” she mumbled.

I couldn’t help my smirk. “Good luck with that secret, Gracie. And by the way? We’re all gonna remember this.”

I was pretty sure she told me to go fuck myself as she brushed past me.

I had to be mistaken, though. Gracie didn’t swear. But the Gracie I knew wouldn’t have gotten drunk and married in Vegas either.

I guessed I had heard right.

Huh.Chapter 7AddisonI moved closer to Brayden, watching as Gracie hurried toward the door, determined to beat Aiden there. Her short legs had no chance of catching up to his long strides, especially when he was hurrying. He beat her, throwing open the door.

Jaxson filled the frame. He looked ridiculous and yet totally perfect. He wore a heavy red Santa jacket, complete with a belt cinched over an obviously padded stomach. His hat was perched on his head, slightly askew, the white pom-pom bouncing in the wind. The red was vivid against his almost black hair. His chiseled jaw bore a trace of scruff on it, highlighting the rugged handsomeness of his face.

Brayden leaned down. “Stop staring, little elf. Or I’ll get jealous.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m married, not dead. Santa didn’t look like that when we were kids.”

He chuckled.

Aiden greeted him, his booming voice filling the room. “Santa! Come on in!”

Jaxson stepped in, lowering his bag to the floor. His gaze found Gracie quickly, and I saw the way his eyes lit up when he saw her. She was glaring at him, her hands tightened into fists at her sides. He winked at her, not at all perturbed by her lack of warmth or greeting.

He cleared his throat and put his hands on his hips. “Ho ho ho.”

I tried not to laugh but failed. He wasn’t exactly jolly. He tried again, lifting his arms. “Merry Christmas!”

He looked shocked at the chorus of Merry Christmases he got in return. But he smiled, and the gesture transformed his face from handsome to sinfully sexy.

“What’s in the bag, Santa?” Ronan yelled.

“I hope it’s booze!” Thomas added.

Jaxson blinked and looked at the bag by his feet. “Some of it,” he said, sounding doubtful.

Aiden laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Some is good. Let’s get this party started.”I sat beside Gracie, watching as Jaxson slowly walked around the room. I was fascinated observing him. He spoke to every person, called them by name, reached into his bag and handed them a present. They were simple things, but thoughtful. Chocolates or bath bombs for all the girls, cigars or small totes of alcohol for the men, each one tailored to the individual’s taste. Every single one had a festive ribbon attached.

“He must have spent hours buying everything,” I mused. “Never mind getting a suit and braving the weather to come here.”

Gracie made a low noise in her throat. I glanced at her. She was focused on him intently, her hands clenched into fists on her lap.

“How on earth did he remember everyone’s name?” I wondered out loud. “He hasn’t made a single mistake.”

“He does that,” she murmured. “He remembers faces and names. Facts. The smallest details others forget.”

“Amazing.”

“It makes him a good lawyer,” she admitted.

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “It makes him a good person too. He’s extremely generous. And thoughtful.”

“I told him not to come,” she muttered almost to herself. “Why did he come?”

“Apparently, he wanted to,” Brayden interjected cheekily. “Maybe it was his Christmas wish.”

“Shut it,” Gracie snarled.

Brayden smirked, clearly enjoying himself. I had to admit it was amusing to see Gracie acting so un-Gracie-like. Normally unflappable and still, she was a bundle of nerves. Her color was heightened, and her foot swung in agitation. Her little huffs of annoyance were adorable.

She tensed further as he approached the parents. He’d handed out something to all the “juniors,” as Aiden called our generation, except for the three of us. I had a feeling he was saving that for last.

He shook all the dads’ hands and kissed the mothers on the cheek. He thanked them profusely for including him today and handed them each a present. They were gracious and warm in return. Gracie was so anxious when he stood in front of Richard, I was sure she had stopped breathing. She almost growled when her dad clapped him on the shoulder, thanking him for the scotch. Her mom, Katy, spoke to him at length, listening to his low-voiced replies. At one point, her hand lifted to rest on his bicep as if in comfort.

“What is he doing?” Gracie whispered. “Why is he still up there? Why is he acting so…nice?”

“Is he not usually nice?” I asked.

“He’s known as ‘the dick’ around the office,” she replied. “He yells a lot.”