"This is a one-off situation," I said. "But we should come back here sometime. This is a nice place. Shannon would love it and I'm sure your wife—oh, wait, you still haven't asked April to marry you. Forget it."
"Your brother was right," he replied. "You're a dickhead with a death wish."
"I might be," I said, inclining my head toward the beach. The sound of feet slapping against sand rose behind us. "But I'm an effective dickhead."
Wes came streaking past, shouting, "I'm going to need a suit."
"We came prepared," I called to his sunburned back.
26
Wes
Five hourson Kaisall's plane was almost enough time to sober up but not nearly enough to get my head on right. I'd squeezed into a suit of Will's and did my best to wash the salt water and rum from my body in the lavatory but I hadn't sorted out what I wanted to say to Tom. All I knew was my nose was going to peel like a motherfucker and I was a week overdue for a haircut, and he'd notice both.
What was I supposed to say?I'm an idiot. You're a stubborn brat. I'm a fool. You're also kind of impossible sometimes and I'm afraid I'll never be enough for you. I'm wrong about everything and I don't enjoy admitting that. I want to figure this out. I want to figure this out with you.
None of that seemed right. It was something but it wasn'tright. Nothing was right.
MaybeIwasn't right. That was a strong possibility. I wasn't right for Tom. He needed someone who was already there, who know how to…be. I didn't know how to be—at least, I didn't know how to be me.
Will consulted his watch as I paced the parking lot. "Fifteen minutes until the ceremony is due to start. Guests are congregated in the main parlor on the northwest side of the estate. Follow the central hallway there."
"Did you study the schematics?" I asked. "Are you that crazy?"
"Shannon forwarded me the floor plan on the flight down."
"In that case, she's the crazy one?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Behave yourself."
I shrugged him off. "The night is young. Let's not put restrictions on ourselves this early."
"Let's not ruin anyone's wedding," he argued.
"I'm not going to ruin a wedding." I smoothed a hand down my lapels. "But that's all I can promise you."
"Jesus Christ." Will pinched the bridge of his nose as he blew out a breath. "I have to find Shannon. Behave yourself."
"You're the one who needs to behave," I called after him. "Do your wife a favor and stay off her. The woman doesn't need you knocking her up again."
He shot both middle fingers into the air as he stepped through the doorway.
I marched back and forth, shaking out my hands at my sides. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. No plan, no strategy. I was going in blind and I didn't think I'd be able to bear it if I couldn't execute. I wouldn't recover if Tom turned me away.
Finally gathering a burst of confidence, I strode through the mansion's entrance and headed toward the parlor. With one glance, I spotted Tom on the far side of the room, his back to the guests as he stared out at the grounds. A champagne flute dangled from his fingers. Even from here, the sweet curve of his ass made my fingers itch. He had one ankle crossed over the other, the red sole of his shoe shining like a flag before a bull.
Come and get me.
"Wes! Hi! Where have you been? What's going on with you? I haven't heard from you since that time we met up in Vienna."
It took full seconds to tear my attention away from Tom and focus on the woman blocking my way. There was a brusque response waiting on the tip of my tongue and I nearly let it fly before realizing the woman was my old expat friend, the one who'd once vowed to never stop roaming, never return home for more than moments wedged between the decades. "Erin fucking Walsh." I gathered her up in a tight hug and then held her away from me to get a good look at her. "How the hell are you, girl?"
"I think the better question is how the hell are you?" she replied, matching my once-over glance. "Nick told me about, you know, everything you've been through."
It seemed doctor-patient confidentiality didn't apply where extended family was involved.
"I'm alive and I'm here, and that's about all I can ask for," I admitted, squeezing her forearms. "And I really need to understand how all this"—I stepped back and pointed at her and Nick, the doctor husband with the nice accent coming up behind her—"came to be. I want the long form explanation, okay? Because I've clearly missed a memo or two, as well as an invitation to your bachelorette party. But I have to go throw myself at a very precious man's feet and I can't hear about your abandonment of team nomad until after that's resolved. Sound good?"
