She nodded. They had. Stefan hadn’t told either of them that he was dating Peter—not for a full year, because he’d felt as if he were somehow betraying their beloved friend Anton, his first husband, who’d died after a long battle with cancer.
Fucking cancer.
In the immediate years after losing Anton, Stef had been convinced he’d spend the rest of his life alone. Worse than that, he was also convinced that his being alone was the right way to honor Anton. But then he’d met Peter. And fortunately, Peter didn’t scare easily.
Still—and Casey and Jon had discussed this endlessly over the past few weeks—Stef was sensitive. Everyone close to him knew that his new joy would always be mixed with the sorrow of his loss. That was just how life—and death—worked. But it was important, especially today, to not let him think they disapproved of his new marriage. And that was why Jon was determined to stay.
“I’m okay,” he told her now. “I really am. I just wanna do the gift thing so I can stop stressing about someone breaking into the car and stealing it, all right?”
“We’re in San Juan Capistrano,” she said. “No one’s breaking into the car in the middle of the day.”
“You handle stress your way, I’ll take care of mine,” he countered. “Don’t panic if I take a minute or... twenty. As along as I’m going out to the car, I’m going to get my meditative breathing on with my new Scottish boyfriend, Andrew, via the gin-be-gone app.”
Casey had to laugh as she hugged him fiercely. He’d started using a popular meditation app while he was locked up in Blue Mountain, but he refused to call it by its real new-agey name. “And there, finally, is the truth. Go out to the car as often as you need to—I’m happy to come along if you want.”
“It’s really okay if you get yourself a drink,” Jon said.
“Nope,” Casey shot back at him. “What was it you just said? You handle stress your way, I’ll take care of mine.”
“Yeah, but that’s exactly opposite because you’re being forced to handle stress my way now, and...”
She was already shaking her head so vehemently that he gave up.
“Suit yourself,” he said. “I’ll be back.” He lowered his voice. “Ooh, don’t look now, but there’s the new boyfriend. He is... certainly fine.”
There, indeed, was Dave’s new boyfriend, Luc, dressed to the nines in a body-hugging, impeccably tailored dark blue suit, white shirt gleaming, bright red tie slightly loosened around his neck, now that they were out of the church. His dark hair was gelled and styled to perfection, swept up off his ridiculously handsome face. He was alone, standing just off to the side of the courtyard’s main entrance as he scanned the area, as if getting his bearings.
Or looking out for potential danger and risk. He’d glanced around the Ralph’s parking lot in the exact same way after asking Casey if she was okay.
God, he cleaned up nicely, but she found herself missing his unstyled, messy hair, T-shirt, and scruff. Bottom line, this man was unreasonably attractive, both dressed up and dressed down.
“I said don’t look,” Jon chastised her, yanking her so that their backs were toward the man. “Not stare at him with cartoon-wolf eyes, tongue hanging out.”
“I was not!” she said. “I didn’t! I wouldn’t—”
“Don’t sweat it,” he said, laughing at her. “I was definitely doing it, too. I’m pretty sure we could back a truck-load of nuns through the front gate, and they’d all faint at his feet, too. He’s got that magic kind of charisma, so really, I’m serious. Don’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control.”
“A truck-load of nuns?” Casey asked. “Don’t you mean a bus-load?”
Her brother shook his head. “Nah, I like the image of them crowded together in a open truck bed, wimples bumping,” he confessed. “Add that beeping, backing-up sound...?”
She had to laugh, and he did, too, but it wasn’t enough to hide the flare of real regret in his eyes as he glanced back again at Luc. He’d blown it with Dave—big time—and he damn well knew it.
“Try not to be too much of an asshole to him this time, okay?” Jon told her before weaving his way through the party-goers toward table number five, to place their cards at a pair of seats before heading back out to the car.
Casey risked a glance at Luc—and discovered that he’d moved. He was now standing in line at the bar, still alone. She scanned the crowd. Still no sign of Dave.
Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she could take this moment, before they were all seated uncomfortably together at the same round banquet table, to apologize to him directly, instead of the awkward way she’d done it through Dave.
She took a deep breath and wove her way through the throng of happy wedding guests, and took her place in line at the bar, directly behind him.
Another deep breath, because Jon was right. Don’t be too much of an asshole was good advice. She cleared her throat. “Hi, Luc.”
He didn’t turn around.
It wasn’t that noisy out here, was it?
She tried again, louder, tapping him gently on the arm. “Excuse me, Luc...?”
