“You did that in, like, an hour,” I said, a little awed.
“Forty-seven minutes,” Elias corrected. “But who’s counting?”
“I am,” I said. “I’ve had ‘call contractors for porch estimate’ on my list.”
“You still can,” Gideon said, stepping close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. “But now you can tell them to find something else to overcharge you for.”
I laughed, the sound bubbling out easier than I expected.
Maude appeared in the doorway with a pitcher of sweet tea and a tray of glasses. “Lord, have mercy,” she said, surveying their work. “I should’ve ordered up a batch of you boys years ago.”
“Back then, we were still idiots,” Lucas said, taking a glass. “You got the improved models.”
“Debatable,” Gideon muttered.
They drank, leaning against the freshly-straightened railing, sweat darkening their T-shirts, that crackling male energy buzzing just under the surface. I leaned beside Gideon and tried to pretend I wasn’t cataloging the way his forearms looked when he tipped his glass back.
“So,” I said, because if I didn’t talk I was going to start staring. “Elias. You mentioned to Gideon that you were coming. You didn’t say you were bringing half a football team.”
“That’s because the roster keeps expanding,” Elias said dryly. “Vivi says it’s like living inside a very violent family reunion.”
“Vivi?” I asked.
“Vivienne. My wife.” The word came out with an ease that made something inside me ache in a way I didn’t have language for yet. “We got married earlier this year. Here in Charleston.”
Maude’s brows shot up. “Oh?”
“Big joint ceremony,” Lucas cut in. “Silas’s wife, Portia, planned the whole thing. She’s a wedding planner, but that doesn’t begin to cover it. ‘Top tier’ is underselling her. I’m pretty sure most of Hollywood is still trying to book her after the Vogue spread.”
“Portia doesn’t do half measures,” Elias agreed. “By the time she was done, the city was calling it ‘the Dane takeover.’ Seven grooms, seven brides.”
“Seven,” I repeated, brain doing quick, horrified math. “All at once?”
“Not exactly,” Ethan said. “But close enough to count. I’m engaged, not married yet. Natalie insisted on waiting until after she got settled in her new job.”
“Natalie,” I echoed. “Your?—”
“Fiancée,” he clarified, the corner of his mouth softening. “She’s the mayor of Charleston.”
Of course, she is.
“Mayor,” Maude repeated, delighted. “Well, now.”
Lucas bumped her shoulder with his. “Wait until you meet Lexi Montgomery,” he said cheerfully.
“TheLexi Montgomery? Actress?”
My brain pulled up the mental file automatically: Lexi Montgomery in a green gown on a red carpet, Lexi Montgomery in the gritty true-crime series that had gotten me through a particularly bad Chicago winter, Lexi Montgomery in a rom-com I’d hate-watched twice and secretly loved.
I blinked at him. “You’re engaged to Lexi Montgomery?”
“Sure am.” Pride warmed his grin into something brighter. “She’s smarter than anyone gives her credit for and meaner than she looks when someone messes with her people. You’d like her.”
“Jacob’s engaged, too,” Ethan added. “To Camille. Marine biologist. She’s from France originally, works out by the harbor now. She could talk to you for hours about marine mammals and tides and you’d actually care.”
“And Caleb?” Gideon asked, though I could see the answer forming behind his eyes.
“Caleb,” Elias said, “is engaged to Meghan. She’s a chef. Owns a couple restaurants around town. If you think Maude feeds people well, wait until you taste what Meghan does with butter.”
