I stood, twirled it around my finger, and turned to face the crowd of single men. My brothers were front and center. Marco grinning like an idiot, Nico already trying to position himself for the best catch. I swapped the garter for the one in my pocket and I threw it directly at Marco's face. He caught it reflexively, then looked at me with an expression that clearly saidreally?I shrugged. What? He was my best man. It was tradition.
"Alright, alright," the DJ called out. "Tradition says the bouquet catcher and garter catcher dance together. Imani and Marco, get out here!"
Imani looked like she'd rather eat glass. Marco looked intrigued. They met in the center of the dance floor while the DJ put on something slow and romantic. Marco held out hishand with exaggerated gallantry, and Imani took it with visible reluctance. I pulled Angelina into my arms at the edge of the dance floor, ostensibly to give the traditional couple some space, but really so I could watch this unfold.
"Your brother is trouble," Angelina murmured.
"All my brothers are trouble," I corrected. "But Marco's the charming kind."
"And Imani doesn't do charming."
"I noticed."
We swayed gently while I kept my attention on the couple in the center of the floor. Marco said something that made Imani's eyebrows shoot up. She responded with what looked like a cutting remark, based on the way his grin widened. He pulled her closer than necessary for a polite dance and she let him.
Interesting.
"She's going to eat him alive," Angelina said, following my gaze.
"Maybe. Or maybe he's exactly what she needs."
Imani was all controlled intensity, I knew the type. I was the male version. She was the kind who didn't suffer fools and probably scared off most men with her competence. Marco, on the other hand, had never met a challenge he didn't find entertaining.
As I watched, he spun her, clearly showing off. She rolled her eyes but there was a smile playing on her lips. When he pulled her back, his hand settled on the small of her back, and she didn't move it.
"He's flirting," I observed.
"She's letting him," Angelina countered. "That's the surprising part. Imani usually shuts down guys who try that smooth operator routine."
"Marco's not most guys."
My brother said something else, leaning close to her ear. Imani threw her head back and laughed—a real laugh, not the polite social one. Marco's expression shifted into something more genuine, less performative.
The song ended but they didn't immediately separate. Marco kept his hand on her back. Imani kept her hand on his shoulder. They stood there talking, the bouquet and garter forgotten, just... connecting.
"Huh," Angelina said softly.
"Yeah."
"Should we be worried?"
"About what? Marco falling for one of your friends?" I pulled her closer. "Why would that be a problem?"
"Because your brother is…" She paused, searching for words.
"A player? A troublemaker? Someone who's never had a serious relationship in his life?"
"All of that."
"True." I watched Marco finally step back, saw him pull out his phone, probably getting Imani's number. "But I've also never seen him look at a woman like that."
"Like what?"
"Like he wants to know what she thinks. Not just what she looks like naked." I pressed a kiss to Angelina's temple. "Trust me. I recognize the look. It's the same one I had when I met you."
"You wanted to know what I thought?"
"I wanted to know everything." I spun her gently. "Still do."
