Ah, shit, she was right. But... “Maybe so, but Luc’s pragmatic cousin Rio is not spending a penny of his hard-earned cash on clothes he’ll wear once and then never wear again.”
“A nice suit, that fits really well? I promise, you’ll wear it again,” Tasha said. “Once you see how good you look. And if you don’t, I’ll pay you back.”
Rio laughed his outrage. “No way. You guys are saving for a house. I’m not gonna let you—"
But Thomas interrupted him. “Just say yes,” he told Rio. “You’re gonna end up saying yes anyway, might as well save your energy and say it now.”
“I’d really prefer to skip the make-over montage,” Rio said.
Thomas got his rom-com movie reference and laughed. He was a little too happy about all of this. “Too late.”
“Cheeseburgers! Incoming!”
They all looked up to see Grey and her newest waiter, a kid named Brad, with a platter in each of their hands. The food smelled incredible and Rio realized just how hungry he was.
“Another round of beer?” Grey asked.
“Yes please,” Rio started, but Tasha cut him off.
“Not for me,” she said, “and not for Rio. We are going to the mall.”
Chapter Three
Saturday
Son of a bitch.
Stefan had put them all at the same table.
Casey took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she picked up her place card, and then her brother’s, too. She tried to rearrange her face into a relaxed smile—not just for Jon’s sake, but for Stef and his new husband, Peter.
The wedding and reception had turned from its early plan for an intimate affair into a hundred-and-fifty person celebration, which was both good and bad. Good, because any tension between Jon and Dave wouldn’t necessarily be noticed by the grooms on their happiest of days, and bad, because any tension between Jon and Dave would have to be navigated in this gorgeously decorated outdoor plaza filled with mostly strangers.
And oh yeah. Casey was a celebrity, even at a wedding attended by a lot of people who worked in Hollywood. She locked her smile into place.
Where was Jon...? He’d gone into the men’s room right when they’d arrived—there was a small out-building that housed the restrooms on the far side of this spacious, tiled courtyard. It was neatly tucked in behind a cluster of gorgeous flowering plants. On this side of the plaza was the facility’s original historic casita. Stefan had told Casey to make sure she took a look inside—it was apparently charmingly rustic.
But right now she was waiting for Jon to reappear. She’d told him she’d grab their place cards, not wanting to stand waiting for him outside the bathroom door, like a prison guard.
She looked for the open bar—there were two stations set up in opposite corners of this plaza, already surrounded by small crowds of merry-makers. Just a few months ago, her brother would’ve bee-lined for the one with the least-long queue.
His voice came from behind her. “I’m right here.”
Casey tried to cover her relief with an even wider smile. “We’re at table five.”
He wasn’t fooled. “With...?”
She nodded. With Dave and his adorable Luc. “Oh yeah.”
Jon glanced over at the nearest bar. “You know it’s okay if you have a drink, right?”
“I’m not drinking today,” she fired back at him. “I don’t need a drink.”
“I’m not saying that you do,” he said. “You just seem more freaked out by all of this than I am.” He took the cards from her. “I’ll go put these at the table—claim our seats, and let Dave be the one to choose not to sit directly next to us. And then I’m gonna go and get the gift out of the car. One of the wait staff said there’s a holding room for wedding presents inside the casita.”
Are you sure you’re okay? Casey clenched her teeth over the question she’d already asked her brother too many times since he’d come home from Blue Mountain. “We don’t have to stay,” she said again.
Jon looked at her. “We do. We talked about this.”
