“Strange name aside, this isn’t really about Jodi’s wedding. It’s about me getting the space I need to write this damn album and get out of this contract, so I canfinallyrid my life of Nate Richards once and for all.”
A current of excitement coursed through me at the thought alone. I suppressed the doubts that began to emerge almost immediately. The intrusive notions hinted that I might never be able to write another word again.
“This is it. I’m going to Harlington,” I told Rayven in a determined voice. The tone was as much for me as it was for her. I needed space to write. My career … hell, my life, depended on it.
Chapter 4
Gabe
Organized chaos surrounded me as I stood in the middle of the church’s changing room. It was the day of Micah’s wedding, and he, myself, Ace, our father, and a few guys from Micah’s PI firm filled the room, donning our tuxes and taking a few shots.
Micah chose not to drink anything, saying he wanted to be stone cold sober when he said his vows.
I took an extra shot for him. But he’d made me promise not to take anymore until the reception, which wasn’t an issue for me.
“I look good,” I said as I moved toward the floor-length mirror behind Micah.
He grunted. “You look okay, little wolf. Not better than me, though.”
“If today weren’t your wedding day, I’d beat your ass.”
He smiled over his shoulder. “You could try, but you wouldn’t be very successful.”
“You’re too old to tussle with me, old man.” I pushed his shoulder playfully.
Glancing over, I spotted Joel straightening the bow tie of one of the guys from Micah’s PI firm.
“A man should know how to tie a damn tie,” he said in that deep voice of his that mine was often compared to. “Can’t be a man without knowing this basic shit, boy.”
“Lay off him, Joel. How’s it going, Bass?” I asked Micah's employee, who was a few years younger than my twenty-eight years.
“Everything’ll be fine once I can take this thing off.” He ran a finger around the collar of the shirt of his tuxedo.
I chuckled.
“You leave it alone for now. I won’t have you messing up my son’s photos,” Joel said.
With a shake of my head, I headed past them and moved to the corner of the room. I slapped Ace on the back of his shoulder.
“Are you ready for this?”
He turned to face me and gave me a smile. There wasn’t a sparkle in his eyes exactly, but the smile showed he was in a less somber mood than he’d been in the week before.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this shit for months now. Our oldest brother’s getting married.” He sounded happy. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I’d almost believe him.
But Ace was good at that sort of thing—covering up what he was feeling. Of course, except on that one day out of the year.
Hell, maybe that was a family trait. Because despite how much I wanted to be happy for Micah, I could think of fifty other places I’d rather be. At the top of the list was my office, working.
“Can hardly believe it myself.” I looked back at Micah. “The guy who said he’d never get married.”
Ace sniffed, and I turned back to see that pitiful look in his eyes before he blinked, and it was gone.
“Yeah, people say shit all the time and don’t mean it.”
On instinct, I nodded in agreement, knowing full well some could use your feelings and love to bite you in the ass.
“But family first,” I mumbled.
