“Do you know if Harper’s parents will be at the wedding?” Ashton asks.
I frown, unsure why he’s asking me about her parents. “I’m not sure. I don’t think she knows. She mentioned to me the other night that she left them a message, but they didn’t call her back.”
“They didn’t RSVP?” he asks.
I rub the back of my neck. “Mom dealt with the RSVPs, so I’m unsure.”
“Your mom planned your wedding?” Ashton smirks, pouring his mug of coffee. “Wow. You really are a mama’s boy.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I growl, lunging at him, and Dante stalks out from the basement and rounds the corner into the kitchen, hearing me.
“You won’t,” Dante says matter-of-factly. “You two ought to be getting along.” He wraps one arm around my shoulder and the other around Ashton’s.
I swear my father sees Ashton more and more as a son. Probably why he suggested that Ashton marry Harper.
My shoulders tense with his arm around me. Everything about it is unnatural.
“It’s going to be quite a day this afternoon with the wedding. I’m looking forward to it,” Dante says, and a wry smile crosses his face.
I just bet he’s looking forward to it, thinking Ashton will marry Harper instead of me.
Fuck Dante.
I force a smile, not letting him know that I’m well aware of his conniving little plan. I’d rather see the look of horror when Harper and I exchange vows.
I’ll be fucking gleeful, just to spite my father.
Ashton looks slightly aghast and puts his mug that he just poured down on the counter. At least I know he hasn’t told my father that he’s spilled his secret to me.
Dante wouldn’t be so forgiving. Probably why Ashton will keep his mouth shut. He’s smart enough to know not to piss off the don, especially on the morning of his son’s wedding.
Dante forces a smile before wandering out of the kitchen. “Stay out of trouble, you two, and no killing anyone before the wedding.”
Ashton mutters something that sounds like a threat to Dante, which surprises the hell out of me, but maybe he’s still cursing me for threatening him.
I ignore it as I sip my coffee and watch as he takes his mug and pours it down the sink.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, staring at Ashton.
“Yeah, well, I just lost my appetite,” he grumbles.
I sip my coffee, the extra boost of adrenaline keeping me alert after a tough night’s sleep without Harper beside me.
I never realized how much I’d depend on anyone else, and I don’t dare want to admit it, but I’m falling in love with her.
There are worse things in the world than loving the person you’re about to marry.
I’m dressed in my tux at my father’s insistence. I’d have been fine wearing a suit to the wedding. The tuxedo is a bit confining. It doesn’t help that I had to give measurements, but I didn’t actually try it on until today.
It fits, better than I thought, but it doesn’t mean I’m comfortable in it, either.
Ashton is keeping me company as I glance at my cell phone, yet again.
“Still nothing from Harper,” I say.
My stomach is doing that tumbling motion, and I loosen the bow tie, finding it constricting.
I need to breathe.
