Trey gives my hand a soft squeeze, his thumb brushing against my knuckles like a quiet reassurance.
“Hi,” I manage, clearing my throat. “I’m Seraphina. Thank you for all of this, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”
Mac/Kayla—grins, glancing at Trey with a conspiratorial gleam. “Oh, I absolutely did! And I had fun doing it!
“Figured you’d want this,” a deep voice says, smooth and unhurried.
My head turns, and for a second, I forget to breathe. The man standing there is tall—broad shoulders, dark messy hair, eyes that feel like they could see too much. There’s something magnetic about him, something that hums quietly beneath the surface.
Trey smirks at my expression, that mischievous gleam sparking in his eyes. “This is Logan,” Trey says, voice laced with teasing. “Mac’s boyfriend. They’re practically joined at the hip, so don’t get any ideas. Actually—how do you two feel about a double wedding?”
Logan snorts. “Keep talking, Baker. Today’s about you and Ms. Seraphina here, not about my Angel.”
Trey groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Every single time, man. You never just sayMac and me.I swear, it’s a loss to the world. Paul Rudd would be so disappointed in you.”
“He didn’t seem to mind when I met him at theGhostbustersafterparty,” Logan fires back, deadpan.
“Paul Rudd?” I question.
Mac—Kayla—pauses mid-motion, arms full of what looks like an entire makeup kit. She leans in close, whispering, “When Trey talks, it’s either wildly inappropriate or a pop culture reference. This one’s the latter.”
“Ah. Thank you…Mac—Kayla.”
“Uh-uh,” she says, shaking her head with a grin. “You can call me Mac. Or Kayla. Your choice.”
“Then Sera,” I offer shyly. “You can call me Sera.”
“Aww,” Mac coos. “That’s such a beautiful name.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I duck my gaze. “Thank you.”
“I swear, you two are so cute, you’re gonna make me mist up,” Trey drawls.
“Let’s give the ladies some room,” Logan says smoothly. I catch the way Mac looks at him—soft, adoring. It’s in the tiny tilt of her mouth, the calm in her eyes.
“Be nice to my bride-to-be!”
Mac rolls her eyes, smirking.
Logan turns back to me, extending his hand. I hesitate—half a heartbeat—before placing mine in his. His grip is firm but gentle, his smile easy
“Welcome to the family,” he says.
Something in my chest stirs. A word I haven’t felt in a very long time.
My cheeks warm. “You’re all so beautiful,” I blurt before I can stop myself. “I feel like I’m suddenly very inadequate.”
Mac laughs softly, reaching over to take a coffee from Logan. “Oh, sweetheart, no one is inadequate around here.”
I don’t know what to say to that. No one’s ever said something like that to me before.
The man in the doorway doesn’t look real.
Golden skin catches the morning light like brushed bronze, and those eyes—an impossible, electric blue—cut through the dim of the room. Dark lashes frame them, absurdly long, the kind most women would trade their souls for. His hair is shaved close on the sides, longer on top, a little messy, like he ran his fingers through it instead of bothering with a comb. There’s a quiet strength to the way he stands, one hand tucked into his pocket, shoulder resting against the doorframe.
“Logan, stop existing for a minute, she’s picking up on your juju,” Trey groans, voice thick with mock annoyance.
Logan’s mouth curves into a lazy smile. “My angel can be a bit of a bully, so make sure to say if you don’t like something,” he says, lowering his tone conspiratorially before adding with a stage whisper, “She may have had one too many coffees.”
