He’d have very much liked not to scare the hell out of Sadie before they got a chance to really connect. A chance for him to find out how things were progressing with that guy of hers. To find out if she was even interested in another try.
Jase clapped Roman on the back. “Dude, this is gonna suck. You should probably reenlist now and save us all the headache.”
“Leaving Denver, right about now, is not the worst idea.” Heather had a genuine look of concern directed his way.
Roman held up his hands. He had enough Dvornakov blood in him to regain control of the situation. Of this, he was certain.
“Let’s keep our focus on Jase. And Heather,” Roman said, speaking louder than the noise of the room. “It’s their night.”
He raised his glass in what he hoped was a good “huzzah.”
There was a great deal of stomping and clanging in response.
“And to their future children,” one of his uncles roared.
“A full house of babies,” one of his aunts yelled.
There was much huzzahing after that.
Heather and Jase stood still, looking utterly shell-shocked.
“Let’s eat,” Roman shouted.
“To food.” His cousin raised a glass.
A clear line of demarcation could be seen between Heather’s family, the reasonable ones in the room, and Roman’s family, the unreasonable bunch.
There was more commotion before the Russian crew turned their attention back to dinner—he needed to grab photos of the spread.
He lifted Louise, ready to head to the kitchen and get those snapshots. Sort of a behind-the-scenes of the wedding album he hoped would be his signature contribution when he did these gigs. An offering to make his business stand out.
Also, getting the hell out of that room wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had.
“Rome,” Jase said.
Roman turned.
Jase glared at him, pointing a finger toward him. “I’ve seen that look. The one currently in residence on your ugly-ass mug. The one that preludes all of our lives turning to shit while you screw things up with a woman.”
“Oh fuck, are we doing this again?” Brek, one of the groomsmen, asked.
“Looks like it,” Jase said in a tone that was remarkably unhappy.
“That means we’ve gotta deal with Babushka again.” Brek shook his head. “Who is it?”
“Sadie,” Jase replied.
Brek pressed his lips into a thin line. “When do you plan on starting to screw shit up with her? I think Velma and I need to get away for a while, until this blows over and you get yourself engaged.”
“I’m not screwing anything up with anyone. I’m just here to celebrate my brother’s wedding and take some pictures.” Roman held up Louise and snapped the shutter. “See?”
“Also, on behalf of her brother—who is busy right now—don’t jerk his sister around.” Jase puffed up like he was the older of the two.
Roman had no intention of jerking Sadie anywhere. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to smile all the time. He wanted her to wait for him.
But he’d screwed that pooch.
He didn’t say anything about any of that. He just looked his little brother dead in the eye and said, “Noted.”
