Page 24

Chapter 24

Nolan

“You could’ve just had him wear his uniform.” Andrew gestured at me. “Then the rest of us could all get the same tux and be done with it.”

Matt laughed. “Sophia wants all the guys in tuxes.”

Andrew and the other groomsmen all made meowing noises and whip-cracking gestures.

Matt rolled his eyes. “You know what? Fine.” He turned to the infinitely patient saleswoman. “Can you get them all matching vests with Yankees logos and—”

Instantly, the room was full of vehement protests from his groomsmen, and he snickered as the saleswoman just laughed and shook her head.

I chuckled myself as I put on the vest she’d brought out for me. I was still off-balance and sick to my stomach after telling Riley everything yesterday, but I felt better today. If nothing else, this was a distraction. Dealing with tuxes and all that fun stuff with my brother and his other groomsmen was something to do besides let my past swallow me whole.

It helped that Riley was here. He was sitting on a bench in the fitting room, ogling me while bantering with all of us, and I let his presence soothe my nerves.

He knew. He believed me. Telling him everything had ripped open a lot of wounds, but it had also been cathartic in ways I hadn’t realized I’d needed. Today, stepping back into something like normal life was weird, but I managed.

I stole a glance at him in the mirror as I buttoned the vest. Riley was here. I was fine.

Every now and then, he’d surreptitiously shoot me a concerned look. One that quite obviously read, You good? I knew to my core that if I said I wasn’t, or that I needed to step away for a while, he’d make it happen. As much as I didn’t want to depend on someone else—as much as I didn’t want to burden him or not stand on my own two feet—it was reassuring to know that backup was there.

Jesus, Riley. You have no idea what a relief it is that you’re here.

Right then, he shot me another of those looks, meeting my reflected gaze. His eyebrows rose just slightly.

You good?

I nodded.

His smiled, returned the nod, and the moment passed. Was I imagining the way his shoulders relaxed after I’d confirmed I was okay?

Hell, maybe he did know how relieved I was that he was here.

“How is that fitting?” the saleswoman asked, pulling my focus from Riley. I turned, and she looked me up and down. “Oh, that’s definitely the right size. How does it feel?”

I looked down at it, then met her gaze and shrugged. “It’s fine. I can breathe in it, so that’s a plus.”

She laughed. “It is a plus. We don’t need any groomsmen passing out during the vows.”

“Oh my God,” Matt groaned. “I swear, if one of you passes out during the ceremony…”

“We’ll draw dicks on his face?” Chase offered.

“Ooh, tie his shoelaces together!” Tristan suggested.

“Dude, no.” Chase shook his head. “I’m bringing a Sharpie. We’re drawing dicks.”

“Oh, grow up,” Andrew said. “Obviously we do both. ”

Matt facepalmed, and the saleswoman, Riley, and I laughed.

“No passing out,” Matt muttered. He looked at me with exasperated eyes. “It’s good, though? Really?”

I nodded and took the jacket off the hanger. As I put it on, I said, “Fits great. Is the color good?” It was a rich gold color that I’d thought was kind of ugly on its own, but it didn’t look too bad once I had the jacket on.

Matt quirked his lips. “I’m not sure yet.” To the saleswoman, he asked, “Do you have that style and size in other colors? We don’t have time to special order, so I have to go with whatever you have on hand.”

“Let me go take a look in the back.”

“Thanks.”

I grimaced. This would’ve been a lot easier if I’d been able to do a fitting a few weeks or months ago. It also would’ve been easier if he’d had me wear my uniform, but I’d have stood out like a sore thumb. As the best man, there needed to be a slight difference between me and the other groomsmen, but not so different that I was mistaken for the groom. Sophia had also vetoed a white tux for Matt, so now he was pulling his hair out trying to find something that fit her aesthetic.

He clearly didn’t mind too much. Right now, he was a little stressed, trying to put his finger on exactly what would work without throwing things off, but he wasn’t annoyed with his fiancée. He really didn’t care about the tuxes or what he and his boys looked like as long as the final result made Sophia happy.

And she wasn’t a bridezilla by any means. Like him, she was stressed, and he was trying to keep that to a minimum. Handling the look of the male side of the bridal party took some pressure off her; it was one less detail she had to think about, and from what my brother had said, all those small decisions were killing her.

“I swear,” he’d told us on the way in today, “planning a wedding is like death by a thousand cuts.”

“You’re not wrong,” Riley had commented from the backseat. “One of my friends is sure that at least half of women accused of being bridezillas are just down to their last nerve. You spend months being asked about the thread count of napkins nobody will ever notice and how many ice cubes should go into each drink, then see if you don’t turn into a stark raving psycho.”

Matt and I had both grunted in agreement.

Shaking my head, I’d said, “I don’t think my platoon did that much advance planning before we went into a combat zone.”

“You probably did,” Matt said. “But everybody did some of it. It didn’t fall on one person’s shoulders to figure out exactly where every bullet in every gun would be stored.”

I’d made a face. “Ugh. No.” Then I’d elbowed him. “So what are you doing to keep her from going crazy? Hmm?”

Matt had gestured at the mall coming into view. “Handling the tuxes, for one thing.”

“Uh-huh. And?”

He’d rolled his eyes. “Besides coordinating with the bartending company, making all the arrangements to rent extra tables and chairs, and hand writing all the invitation envelopes because my beautiful bride writes like a serial killer?” He’d punched me across the console. “Nothing, asshole. Not a goddamned thing.”

I’d just chuckled as I’d rubbed my arm.

Yeah, I had to give him credit. He was hardly a passive groom who sat back and let the bride handle everything.

The saleswoman came back in with a handful of fabric swatches. She and Matt looked over them as she told him which ones were in stock in my size.

He pursed his lips. “You know, as much as I don’t want to put anything else on her shoulders…” He took out his phone. “I should get Sophia’s opinion.” He took a picture of me, then started thumbing a text to his fiancée.

“Good idea.” The saleswoman smiled at the other groomsmen. “In the meantime, let’s bring out everyone’s tuxes and make sure we have everyone’s sizes correct.”

The guys all nodded, and she left again. I’d already tried mine on, since everyone was most concerned about mine. The rest of the guys had been measured in the store for theirs, so she’d been confident she had everything correct for them.

“You would think measurements would be universal,” she’d told me apologetically as she’d brought mine out. “But you’d be amazed.”

“Not really,” I’d said. “The tailors on-base have fuck—err, they’ve screwed up my uniforms several times.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Fortunately, mine had fit. And as the other guys tried theirs on, everything seemed good there, too, though Tristan’s waistband was a little tighter than expected.

“My bad,” he said. “I keep forgetting Alicia’s the only one who’s supposed to be eating for two.”

That got a laugh out of everyone. The saleswoman wasn’t too concerned, though; the alteration on the trousers would be minor, the jacket still fit fine, and there were vests in stock in his updated size.

“Any word from the missus?” Andrew asked Matt.

“Yeah.” Matt glanced at his phone. “She should be here in—oh, hey, there they are.”

They?

My head snapped toward the front of the store, and my stomach hit the floor. I’d thought he was getting her opinion via text—not that she’d be coming in.

And definitely not that she had two of her bridesmaids in tow.

My stomach very nearly lurched up my throat at the sight of Leann.

No. God, no. I can’t deal with her. Not now.

I could never deal with her, but one look at her this time had me just as raw and ripped open as when I’d poured my ugly past out for Riley to see. Fucking hell. And there was no way for me to bow out. No way to—

“You know,” Riley said, rolling to his feet from the bench. “It’s going to get wicked crowded in here.” He gestured at Leann and the other bridesmaid. “Let’s all get out of the way and go get the guys some coffee!”

He didn’t even give them a chance to object before he was herding them out of the fitting area. Leann tried to protest, I thought, but he was chatting away about how he needed them to show him which coffee place was the best. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Guys, have Nolan text me what you all want. This one’s on me!”

All the men nodded and murmured along the lines of “oh, hey, yeah, I could use some coffee.”

And just like that, the woman of my nightmares was gone.

My pulse was still in the stratosphere and my palms were still sweating, but breathing came easier now. Little by little, I unwound, my whole body tingling with that “holy shit, the mortar just missed us” feeling.

Andrew elbowed me and grinned. “You writing down coffee orders or what?”

Writing down… coffee orders…

“Guys, have Nolan text me what you all want. This one’s on me!”

Oh. Right. That.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Yeah, just, uh, let me get my phone.” I gestured at the dressing room. “I left it in my jeans.”

I stepped out of the fitting area and into the dressing room, and I paused for a moment to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

Leann was gone. Not forever. Probably not even for the rest of the day. But for as long as it took them all to go find coffee, I had a reprieve.

Because of Riley.

Because of the man I’d been so afraid would balk and think less of me once I told him what had happened.

He’d said yesterday that he believed me.

Today…

Holy fuck, today, I believed him .