Why am I so jealous of my brother? I pull out my phone, type the question and stare at it. There has to be something deeply rooted within me on why I feel this way about Nate, and it’s something I need to get to the bottom of. Of course, he should be here.
“We need to look for an office space or something,” I blurt out. “I’m sure the last thing Ryley wants is for me to work from home. That equipment takes up so much space.”
“I’ll be here until after the wedding,” Nate says.
“Where are you staying?”
“At the base hotel,” he says. “I have a couple of meetings there, and it’ll be easier for Cara when she arrives.”
“Makes sense. I'll take you by the house before we head back to your car.” I want to finish the sentence with E.J. would love to see you. I know he will but saying it aloud stings. Everything that happened is not Nate’s fault, yet I blame him.
We’re a couple of beers in when McCoy mutters “holy shit” and puts us on high alert. I look toward the door and see River striding toward us. The beast of a man looks nothing like he did the last time I saw him. Killing his estranged wife has done a number on him. He grabs a chair, flips it around, and sits down without a word.
“Long time no see.” We don’t shake hands, hug, or even high-five.
River looks down at the table. “I heard you moved back.”
“Yep, a couple of days now. We’re over on San Luis Rey Ave. You can stop by anytime.”
River nods.
Slick Rick brings over another two pitchers and an additional glass. Rask pours River a beer and sets it in front of him. After everything we went through, River took the brunt of it. For the most part, we’ve been able to rebuild our lives. Even Rask has found some purpose by staying in the Navy—although McCoy and I think it’s because he’s spying on them—but River has been lost ever since we rescued McCoy’s family in Vermont. I’d probably be the same way if I found out my wife destroyed lives.
We act like things are normal—that River is normal—and chat about whatever comes up. I prod Rask a bit, asking if he’s seeing anyone, and surprisingly, he blushes and ducks his head while muttering out that he’s single.
“Well, maybe there will be someone at the reception for you,” Nate says while stifling some laughter. I feel bad for the kid, but not bad enough that I want to bring up our sister. Nate and I will let Rask wait us out a little bit before we broach the subject.
Ryley texts and tells me that everyone is coming over for dinner and to make sure the guys know. I tell them, and we throw some money down onto the table, even though Rick doesn’t charge us. He said after our ordeal, our money isn’t any good in his establishment. We appreciate the courtesy but still pay our tab.
I pat River on the shoulder, and he finally looks up at me. “Come on,” I say. “Dinner at the new place.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“But you are, come on. Let’s go.”
Nate steps in front of River and me behind him, sandwiching him in. We’re a team, and a team sticks together, regardless of what his crazy ass wife did. River had no idea who or what she was when they married, and I’m not going to hold that against him.
CHAPTER 4
RYLEY
“You know, most brides have a dress months before their big day, not weeks,” Penny says as she looks through a rack of dresses. I sigh heavily, knowing she’s right, even though I have a valid excuse.
“I didn’t like any of the dresses in Washington. I looked.”
“Liar,” Lois adds. I glare at her, wishing I could maim her with lasers from my eyes or something. Instead, I immaturely stick my tongue out at her. She laughs because what else is there to do? I’m the bride and everyone has to treat me like I’m a princess.
“Here.” My mom hands me a glass of champagne while Alex, of Alexandra’s Bridal, hands one to Lois, Livvie, and Penny. “Drink this.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I ask her before I take a sip.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, Ryley. Trying to get you drunk so you’re too wasted to pick a dress and you’ll wear whatever we pick out for you.”
The room goes silent. I stare at my mother, wondering where in the hell that outburst came from. I open my mouth to say something, but for the life of me I can’t think of how to reply. A snicker sounds from behind me and then my mother breaks out in complete laughter.
“Not cool, Mother.”
She keels over with laughter, slapping her leg with her in hand in the process. I’m happy she thinks this ordeal is hilarious. I finish my champagne in one gulp and set the flute on the glass countertop. Once my mom has regained her composure, she pulls me in for a hug.