Page 19

Bestman, indeed…
In a tan, linen summer suit and a sky-blue shirt, with his hair ruffled by the sea breeze, Hunter looks good enough to eat.
To devour, in fact…
I can’t wait to get him alone. I’ve whipped out my vibrator at least ten times since he left me hanging on Sunday night, but self-administered orgasms aren’t cutting it this time around. My body wants that man, thebestman, and it wants himnow.
I’ve been so tormented by my own libido that I haven’t had time to get nervous about marrying my bestie since we were both in kindergarten.
It’s just another thing to thank Hunter for as we sign on the dotted line tonight. For a self-proclaimed “very bad man,” he sure is makingmymost precious dreams come true.
“Maya Swallows,” Anthony’s voice cracks with emotion as he finishes the self-written portion of his vows. “You came into my life at a time when I was so lost, and not only did you find me, but you healed me. Inspired me. Made me laugh and feel and think in ways I never had before. You are so strong and beautiful and graciously, fearlessly kind.”
I blink faster, getting teary for at least the third time since the ceremony started. These two…they know and see each other in a way that’s so beautiful, and damned impressive for people who have been together less than a year.
“I feel like the luckiest man in the world,” he continues, his eyes shining with emotion. “Every day with you is better than the last, and I can’t wait to spend all our tomorrows together.”
Maya sucks in a breath, her bottom lip trembling as she mouths, “Me, too.”
“Then all that’s left is to make it official,” I say, smiling at the joy on their faces. “Do you, Maya Swallows, take Anthony Pissarro to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” she says, her voice ringing with love and certainty.
“And do you, Anthony, take our Maya to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“Hell, yes,” Anthony says, making everyone laugh. “I mean, I do. I definitely do.”
“Then by the power vested in me by the great state of Maine, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” I grin as they lean toward each other. “You may kiss your husband, bestie, because you are married!”
The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as Maya and Anthony share their first kiss as husband and wife. The guest list was still fairly small by wedding standards, but a lot bigger thanSydney and Gideon’s ceremony. Maya has a large family in town, and Anthony flew his even larger family in for the event.
So far, the very Irish Swallows clan and the very Italian Pissarros, seem to be hitting it off like crazy.
The potluck table is weighed down with food and we had to fetch two extra ice tubs at the last minute to hold all the beer and Prosecco. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a wild night, a hunch that’s confirmed as Maya’s older sister shouts, “Last one to the dance floor is a pickled egg,” and dashes toward the large platform set up on the beach below the boardwalk.
She’s followed by two very handsome Pissarro cousins, several of our friends from high school, and her son, Maya’s nephew, who’s already promised us a break-dancing show after Auntie Maya throws the bouquet.
In just a few minutes, the DJ is cranking “You Make my Dreams Come True,” and everyone is dancing around the bride and groom. It’s pandalerium down there, so packed that no one is going to notice if Hunter and I slip away for a little…talk before rejoining the festivities.
“Hey, bad man, you clean up nice,” I whisper, joining him off to one side of the drink table, where he’s watching from a distance, as usual.
The man appears to be allergic to fun, another reason we’d be a terrible fit, long term. Yep, the longer I know him, the more certain I am that hitting it and quitting it isn’t going to be a problem at all.
We just aren’t suited for more.
His lips quirk. “You, too. I like this bridesmaid dress even better than the other one. Red is your color.”
“Thanks,” I say. “It isn’t a bridesmaid dress, though. It’s just a little something I pulled from my collection. So, maybe you’ll get to see it again someday if you’re lucky.”
“A man can only hope,” he says flatly, making me grin.
We aren’t well-suited for the long term, but I enjoy his smartass side an awful lot. Exchanging barbs with Hunter is more fun than sweet talk from anyone else.
Though there is something I enjoy even more than our banter…
“Walk with me?” I ask softly, already stepping away. “I’ll meet you on the other side of those dunes, where no one will see us.”
Keeping his gaze glued to the dancers below, he murmurs, “Meet you there.”