Page 104 of Deacon

“And he got Jackson on his ribcage with his birthdate under it,” she went on, her voice softening. “He said he put it there so there’d be room to add the rest of the babies we’re going to have.”

I laughed before I could stop myself as Evan collapsed back into the chair like his bones had given up. “You are ridiculous.”

“He’s insane,” Evan said to the ceiling. “That man is clinically, romantically unwell. Over the heart? Room for future babies? Blue, I need you to understand this is the kind of thing women in books throw themselves onto chaise lounges over.”

Blue was laughing now too, blushing and looking happier than I had seen her in a long time. “He was very serious about it.”

“That somehow makes it worse,” Evan said, sitting up and pointing at her like he was cross-examining a witness. “Now. Important matters. Lila better be your maid of honor.”

Blue looked at me like the answer had never been in doubt. “Of course she is.”

The certainty warmed me. Before I could answer, Evan slapped a hand over his heart and claimed the conversation.

“Thank God. And I refuse to be left out. I will not be relegated to random guest status at this event. I am too invested.”

I folded my arms, because I knew exactly where this was headed. “You are not a bridesmaid.”

“I know that,” he said. “I need something better.”

Jax made a sleepy sound while Evan stared into the middle distance, apparently assigning himself a ceremonial rank. “Bride’s Guard,” he said finally.

I stared at him long enough for him to reconsider the title on his own. “No. Better. Honor Escort.”

Blue snorted, which encouraged him exactly as much as it should not have. I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”

He pointed at himself with complete conviction. “Ceremonial Blade.”

“That sounds like you’re there to assassinate someone,” I said, because apparently I was participating now despite myself.

“Only emotionally,” he replied.

Blue was laughing too hard to help, and I could already hear this argument repeating before the wedding. “Whatever title you invent for yourself, it is not going on an invitation.”

“Fine,” he said. “But spiritually, I remain a highly decorated member of the bridal ranks.”

That satisfied him for nearly three seconds. Then his eyes narrowed at Blue with fresh purpose. “Are you getting Priest tattooed?”

Blue looked at him, then me, and bit her lip. The answer was already there.

I pointed at her. “No.”

Evan made a delighted noise. “Yes.” His whole face lit as if Blue had just invited him to participate in the surprise personally.

She laughed, caught. “I was actually thinking about it.”

He shot out of the chair, bouncing once on the balls of his feet. “You have to let us come with you.”

Blue laughed harder. “Evan.”

“I am completely serious. I need to witness this. Lila needs to witness this. We are your emotional support team.”

I looked at her over the edge of my disbelief. “You were really going to do it?”

She lifted one shoulder, suddenly shy. “As a surprise.”

“That is so unhinged,” Evan said fondly. “I’m obsessed. We’re going.” His delight made it sound less like a suggestion than a travel itinerary.

Blue looked between us and laughed again. “Fine. Of course you can come.”