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Morrison, not surprisingly, was the most relaxed in slacks and a turtleneck sweater, followed by Sebastian, who wore a well-tailored black suit that looked pretty basic but probably cost a fortune. It was Ethan—in his maroon three-piece get-up—who was the real surprise. The man cleaned up pretty fucking well. As for Bell? Well, what did I expect? He’d just wrapped a campaign with Ralph Lauren, so of course he was dressed head-to-toe in his fall runway look, his long blond hair perfectly blown out.

Ethan dropped his face forward, his hand lifting to cradle his forehead. “I told him we were overdressed.”

Bell slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, circling Mikey and me slowly, and letting out low, contemplative hums every couple of seconds. When he’d made a full revolution, he gestured at Sebastian, jerking his head toward me. “Give Callahan your tie.”

“What? Why?” Sebastian asked, his hands already coming up to loosen the knot around his neck.

“My tie is fine,” I protested.

Bell turned back to me, his lip curled. “Please tell me you don’t really think that.”

I pinched the tip of the fabric and angled it away from my body, peering down at it. It was a perfectly fine Brooks Brothers silk-blend tie with pale blue diagonal stripes. I legitimately did not see what was so objectionable about it.

“Oh my god, Callahan,” Bell breathed out, exasperated. “It looks like something a prep school boy would wear.”

I felt my cheeks go instantly hot as embarrassment set in. It looked like that because that’s precisely what it was—I’d been wearing some version of this tie since I was fifteen.

“Leave him alone,” Mikey said, stepping between us, his hands coming up to rest on my chest. “Do you like the tie, Cal?”

I glanced down at it again, shaking my head. “Not particularly. It’s just a tie. I’m not supposed to like or not like it. You just wear them.”

Mikey’s mouth twitched, letting me know I’d once again said something he found inordinately funny, though I couldn’t imagine what. Then he set to work loosening the knot, flipping my collar up to lift the striped silk off over my head.

“Ties suck.” Mikey tossed it onto a nearby bench without looking.

My eyes dipped to the exposed skin at his collar, and I realized I’d never actually seen him wear one. Which, in all honestly, would have been a crime. Mikey had the sexiest throat I’d ever seen.

I had the sudden, overwhelming desire to put my face in its crook and bite down.

And yes, I recognized it was entirely possible he’d given me a bit of an oral fixation.

Before I could do something dumb and act on my compulsion, a woman behind the partition cleared her throat, tapping on the glass to get our attention.

“Mr. Callahan? Mr. Porter? You ready?”

Mikey started to speak, but whatever he’d intended to say came out as a croak instead. He cleared his throat and started over. “Yes. We’re ready.” He glanced up at me. “We’re ready, right?”

I didn’t miss the hesitant, almost pleading look he gave me, before he rolled his lips between his teeth, his eyes flicking between mine.

Seeing his nerves seemed to settle mine as, all at once, an all-encompassing calm settled over me. Any nerves I’d felt about what we were doing here today—and there had been plenty—vanished in an instant. My discomfort at not understanding why my tie was bad? Gone. The resulting embarrassment once I did? Poof! For a brief moment, even the other people in the room seemed to disappear. It was just me and Mikey, the way it was always meant to be.

I nodded. “We’re definitely ready.”

“Okay, right here please.” She directed us to stand in front of her counter.

“There?” Mikey pointed at the exact spot she’d indicated, his brows dipping.

“Yes, please.”

In the background, I could hear a phone ringing. Somewhere nearby, a printer had just kicked off with a whir. A man dressed in camo, his hat covered in fishing lures, had just strolled in, saying hello to someone named Connie.

No. She could not be serious. Were we getting married, here, in this … office?

Fuck, not even in the office. At the service counter, right next to⁠—

I leaned over to see a neat stack of ice fishing permits piled next to death certificate forms.

“They’re getting married here?” I heard Bell whisper.