Reed groaned. "That's what I'm afraid of."
But he was laughing as he said it, and Elena was laughing with him, and the sound of their combined joy echoed across the garden like a promise of all the happiness to come.
Hand in hand, Mr. and Mrs. Reed Star walked toward their future.
The reception wasin full swing when James finally cornered Terrel near the bar.
"So," James said, sliding onto the barstool beside his brother. "You going to tell me who she is, or am I going to have to start guessing?"
Terrel's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The redhead. Emerald dress. The one you've been watching all evening like she's a code you can't crack." James took a sip of his whiskey. "The one who's been very carefully not looking at you."
Terrel was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes fixed on something across the room. "Her name is Cassidy. Cassidy Monroe."
"And?"
"And nothing. She's someone I used to know."
James snorted. "Brother, I've seen you disarm bombs with steadier hands than you've got right now. That's not 'someone you used to know.' That's someone who rearranged your insides and never put them back right."
Terrel's silence was answer enough.
"It was a long time ago," he finally said. "A different life."
"Funny thing about the past," James replied, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "It has a way of not staying there."
Terrel turned to look at his younger brother, something flickering in his dark eyes. "Speaking from experience?"
James's expression shuttered. "We're not talking about me."
"Those texts you've been getting all day?—"
"Are none of your business." James drained his whiskey and signaled the bartender for another. "Just like your mystery redhead is none of mine."
They sat in silence for a moment, two brothers carrying burdens they weren't ready to share.
Across the room, the redhead—Cassidy—glanced toward the bar. Her eyes met Terrel's for just a moment before she lookedaway, but in that brief connection, James saw something that looked a lot like longing. And regret.
"Whatever it is," James said quietly, "whatever happened between you two—you know you can tell us, right? Me, Reed, Walker. We're your brothers. We've got your back, no matter what."
Terrel's throat worked. "I know. Same goes for you. Whatever—whoever—is on the other end of those messages, you don't have to face it alone."
James nodded once, sharply. "Yeah. I know."
But neither of them said anything more. Some secrets weren't ready to be told.
Not yet.
James's phone buzzed again in his pocket. He didn't check it, but Terrel noticed the way his brother's hand clenched around his whiskey glass. Whatever—whoever—was trying to reach him, it was serious. And complicated. And almost certainly going to end up being a problem.
The Star brothers had never been good at simple.
On the dance floor, Reed and Elena swayed together in their first dance as husband and wife. Elena's head rested on Reed's chest, her eyes closed, a peaceful smile on her lips. Reed held her like she was made of glass and gold, like she was the most precious thing in his world.
Because she was.
Walker appeared beside his younger brothers, a glass of champagne in his hand. "They look happy," he observed.
