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“No?” She tilts her head. “Then what? Because it sounds like you’re letting your partners and whatever other stress is going on in your business get in the way of what actually matters––Megan and Deuce.”
I don’t answer.
Lena sighs. “Hunter, I know you have one million things going on, but can you just—take a second?”
I drag a hand over my face.
Lena waits.
Finally, I exhale sharply. “I don’t get nervous.”
She raises a brow. “But?”
I look at her. “But I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Something in her face softens.
“You won’t.”
I scoff. “You don’t know that. If you had asked me eighteen months ago if I’d be getting married, I would have looked at you like you were crazy.”
“Maybe, but if you’d have told me that I had an older brother out in the world eighteen months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it either.” She leans in, voice softer now. “You won’t fuck this up, Hunter, because I see the way she looks at you. And the way you look at her. You adore each other in a way that is beautiful to watch.”
I let out a breath, staring at my desk.
Lena smirks again. “Besides, you already made her manager of the Blue Whiskey, threatened her college bullies, flew her to Paris in a private jet, helped with her art career, and put a baby in her. I think you’re set.”
I chuckle under my breath. “I see she’s briefed you on our entire courtship.”
“Go home to your fiancée.” She nudges my arm. “Stop overthinking things. And maybe—just maybe—try to enjoy getting married. It’s the one time you’ll do it.”
I shake my head.
But as I watch my little sister walk out, I can’t help but feel like she’s right.
Because at the end of the day?
It’s not about Fabre. Or Vaughn. Or Christian. Or whatever new crisis pops up in my world.
It’s about Megan.
The woman I’m marrying in two days.
The woman who loves me and all of my shit.
At the end of the day, it’s going to be a beautiful life.
Chapter 47
I Do, I Do, I Do
MEGAN
The sun is setting over the Hollywood Hills, casting a golden glow across our new home. A light breeze sways the white rose petals that line the stone pathway leading to the altar, where Hunter is waiting for me.
I take a deep breath, gripping my bouquet of cream-colored peonies and roses as I stand at the end of the aisle.
Lars is at my side, his broad frame steady, protective. The gruffness in his eyes softens as he looks at me. His reaction when I asked him to walk me down the aisle almost moved me to tears. When Parker disappeared from my life, I thought my one ally in this made family of ours was gone, but it turns out that Lars was always the true ally, and I’m so fortunate he agreed to be part of our big day.