Page 38 of The Best Man's Secret

Going to work and pretending I wasn’t going through a huge life crisis was more than I could handle today. So, I messaged my brothers and told them I needed the day.

They agreed without question, which meant our mom had likely told them I’d gone to Victoria’s place to get my stuff yesterday and they knew I needed the space to process.

If only they knew how much I needed to process.

But after staring at the ceiling of River’s spare room for ten minutes, I had an idea. A quick call to West and I had more than a plan.

I opened River’s door and flung myself at him.

“Fucking fuck,” he cried under my weight. “You used to be lighter.”

“I used to be a lot of things.” I dug my fingers into his ribs, which was a ticklish area for him. He squirmed under me, which was when I felt his morning wood. Of course my confused and deranged dick had to react.

Fuck. Bad idea.

I moved quickly off him and stole his pillow, covering his head with it.

“You can’t just walk into people’s rooms like this. What if I was jerking off?” His voice was muffled under the pillow.

“You weren’t because I didn’t hear you moan my name.”

“Asshole.”

He managed to grab the pillow and push it off him. It ended up between us, so I pulled it over my lap, hoping by the time I told him about my plan, I wouldn’t have an awkward walk out of the room.

“Hey, let’s play hooky today. Just you and me,” I said.

“It’s my day off,” he chuckled.

“Fine. I’ll play hooky then.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Get dressed, and you’ll soon find out.”

I flung the pillow back at him and ran out of his bedroom.

By the time River came out, dressed and ready to go, I had myself and my dick under control.

The bell above the door to Margo’s Ice Cream Parlor jingled as we stepped inside, the familiar scents of vanilla, sugar, and coffee wrapping around us.

When Margo opened, she hired our agency to help her with the launch. The campaign went viral, and Margo became a staple in Cliffborough.

Initially, she only offered her homemade ice cream but had since started opening earlier and offering breakfast. Emery was completely obsessed, as seen in his social media feed, which waspractically an homage to Margo’s ice cream, Lex, and their pets Gordon the gecko and Goldie the fish.

“Taking the day off, huh?” River teased as we picked a table by the window. His light-green eyes seemed brighter in the morning sunshine, almost aquamarine. How had I never noticed that? “What’s the occasion?”

“Missed this,” I admitted as I picked up the menu, gesturing between us.

The server appeared, her cheery demeanor adding to the morning’s charm.

“Good morning, gentlemen. What can I get for you today?” she asked.

“Can I have Margo’s special stack?” I asked.

“Bacon and ice cream?”

“Absolutely.”