Stella clears her throat beside me and, playing a part, loops her arm through mine. “We didn’t want to wait any longer, and neither of us wanted a big fancy wedding.”
“Wait,” Fran says, her mouth dropping into a gaping grin. “Are you getting married? Here? Now? And we’re witnessing?”
“Yes,” I answer—one word, because I have nothing else to say.
But Fran’s brown eyes glisten with excitement. “Roman! Where is everyone else?”
“What do you mean?”
“The team! Our Red Tail family! When are they getting here?” she asks.
But it’s Callum who answers her. “They aren’t.”
“You didn’t invite them?” Fran’s hand slides down Callum’s arm and slips into his. I watch the movement, and in my mind, Stella does the same with me. She doesn’t, of course, but it’s almost as if I can feel her soft hand in mine.
I narrow my gaze, remembering the question asked and unsure how Fran is confused. “We didn’t invite them because we didn’t want them here.”
“Roman,” Stella scolds. But I have no idea why. She wants a big show as much as I do. Stella never liked a lot of eyes on her. I assume that hasn’t changed. “We just wanted to keep it private.”
“Private,” Fran says. And while she’s nodding, her face tells me that she doesn’t understand—at all.
“We only needed two witnesses,” I say, earning me a small elbow jab from my future bride. I suppose I might have been rude. I wouldn’t have invited them had we not needed witnesses—and now they know it.
“Well, too bad,” Callum says. “I invited Zev and Rosalie.”
A grumbling breath escapes my lips, and I stop myselffrom calling Callum a name in front of Stella and Fran. “We aren’t waiting for Hayes and some girl.”
“No wait needed,” says a voice just behind me. Zevulun.Great.
Zev Hayes is in a tie, and his date is in a dress. Who told anyone to dress up? Stella and I aren’t dressed up. They look like they’re ready to go dancing—or, ironically, to a wedding.
“She isn’t some girl,” Fran says. “Rosalie is the most beautiful human on the planet, my very best friend, and Zev’s—” She pauses, looking at her friend. “Zev’s something. Okay?”
Rosalie rolls her eyes. “What are we doing here? I thought you said we were going on a triple date. Dancing or drinks or?—”
Fran squeals, her feet trotting in place. Stella looks at me again, but I don’t understand the reaction any more than she does. “We are! But it’s so much better than dinner or karaoke. We are witnesses for Roman and Stella’s wedding!” Her mouth drops until her jaw could possibly come unhinged. She waits for her friend’s reaction—and she gets one.
“Graves is getting married? Today? As in right now?” Rosalie blinks, then turns to Stella. “You’re sure about this? You’ve seen his temper, right?”
Stella—to her credit—scoffs. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, then.” Rosalie sighs and plants her hands on her hips. “Well, you cannot get married like that.”
“She’s right,” Fran says, waving Stella on. “Come on.”
Before either of us can protest, the women have each taken one of Stella’s hands and dragged her into the women’s restroom not five yards away.
I roll my neck and sigh, peering upat the ceiling.
“Happiest day of your life, eh?” Zev says, one brow quirked.
“Happiest,” I say.
He smirks. “Looks like it.”
“All this time we’ve had the happy version of Graves,” Callum says. “I mean, if this is you overjoyed, we’ve been dealing with a fairly content man all this time.”
Zev laughs. “Truth.”
