“I couldn’t decide on a best man,” Charlie continues, oblivious to the way my pulse has kicked into overdrive. “So they just...took over. Offered the hotel as the venue, said they’d handle everything. The bachelor party, the bachelorette party, and accommodations for all the guests. The whole thing.”
Sienna squeezes his arm, her eyes soft as she looks up at him. “They’re your family. Of course, they’d want to do this for you.”
Family.
The word scrapes against something raw inside me. Because they were family once. The Kane brothers were as much a part of my childhood as Charlie, as present in my memories as our own house. Summer days at their place by the water, winters skating on the pond behind their property, springs and falls, and every moment in between.
Until I left and didn’t look back because staying meant living under the watchful eyes of four overprotective men who saw me as nothing more than a responsibility. Charlie’s annoying little sister. The girl who needed protection from the world and from herself. I couldn’t grow up. I couldn’t have my own life. Don’t even ask if I’m still a virgin, okay.
“That’s... generous of them,” I manage.
Charlie’s studying me now, that older brother scrutiny that sees too much. “You okay?”
“Fine. Just tired from the flight.” I drain my champagne and immediately wish I hadn’t. The bubbles pop sharply against my tongue, my throat. “I should probably?—”
“Parker, you haven’t met Rochelle yet!” Sienna’s already pulling someone forward. “Rochelle, this is Parker. Parker, this is my cousin Rochelle. She’s my maid of honor.”
Rochelle Martins is stunning. Deep brown skin, braids that fall past her shoulders with gold cuffs catching the light, and a body-con dress in deep burgundy that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. She’s holding a champagne flute like it’s a prop, her lips curved in a smile that’s all confidence and invitation.
“So you’re the famous little sister.” She looks me up and down in a way that feels appreciative rather than assessing. “Charlie talks about you constantly.”
“Everything is true. Especially if he told you about when I hopped a fence wearing a jean miniskirt.”
“Mm. Overprotective things mostly.” Her smile widens. “But I get it. Brothers are like that. My older brother still tries to vet my dates, and I’m twenty-eight.”
I laugh despite myself. “Charlie tried that once in high school. I went out with the guy anyway just to spite him.”
“That’s the spirit.” She links her arm through mine like we’re old friends. “Come on. I need another drink, and you look like you need several. Let the lovebirds do their thing.”
Charlie and Sienna are already being pulled away by another group of guests, and I let Rochelle guide me toward the bar. She moves through the crowd like she owns it, all confidence and curves, and I find myself grateful for the distraction.
“So.” She leans against the bar, signaling the bartender. “Six years in California. That’s a long time.”
“Work,” I say automatically. “And school before that. It’s hard to get time off.”
“Mmhm.” She accepts two champagne flutes from the bartender and hands me one. “Well, I’m glad I finally have someone here to help me navigate maid of honor duties with a Kane brother thirst traps.”
Jeez. You’d think puberty had hit them differently than I remembered from her Google Review.
My stomach tightens. “Or something.”
“She showed me pictures.” Rochelle takes a sip, her eyes glinting with interest that has nothing to do with me. “Holy *shit*, Parker. Jace looks like he could break someone in half. In a hot way. All that intensity and control.”
She’s not wrong. Even the thought of Jace makes my chest tighten—memories of broad shoulders and careful hands, the way he taught me to throw a punch and then immediately told Charlie I’d been in a fight, so I got grounded for a week.
“And Cal,” Rochelle continues, her voice dropping to something appreciative. “That whole dark and dangerous thing. Quiet but deadly, you know? The kind of guy who sees everything and says nothing until it matters.”
I take a long drink instead of responding. Cal was always like that. Watching. Waiting. Making me feel like I was under a microscope whenever he was around, like he could see straight through every lie I told.
“And Silas.” She practically purrs his name. “God. That smile alone should be illegal. He looks like trouble wrapped in the prettiest package.”
“He is,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her eyebrows rise. “Personal experience?”
“He’s one of Charlie’s best friends. Was. Is.” I shake my head, trying to clear the champagne fog that’s already settling over my thoughts. “They all are. Were. I grew up with them.”
“So you know them.” She leans in, her interest sharpening. “Are they single? Please tell me at least one of them is single and interested in a wedding fling.”
