Page 233 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

SHAW

Damn.

I check out my reflection in the mirror at the tux shop, shaking my head in over-the-top admiration. “I’d say it’s amazing . . . but honestly, it shouldn’t be a surprise I look good in anything. Formal wear was made for me.”

Derek adjusts the lapels on his tux as he scoffs. “Hey, Shaw. Have you been tested lately?”

“For extreme levels of good-looking? Why, yes. I was off the charts.”

“No, for your myopia, as in short-sightedness.”

Gabe mimes banging a drum. “Boom.”

“Oh, please. You’re all just jelly I’m still single.” I joke, since I know they’re nothing of the sort. These two cats are most happily taken.

“Ha. As if I want to be out there hunting with the likes of you.” Gabe points at himself, his platinum band shining brightly under the fluorescent lights of the store. “Married, and happy as the happiest clam in the sea, thank you very much.”

As a man should fucking well be when he’s spoken for. And since Gabe is my closest bud, and Derek’s become a damn good friend, I couldn’t be more thrilled one of them has successfully tied the knot and the other will in one more week.

And yet, I also must razz them. “Then you’re green with envy that I look this stunning. Damn, I should be the star of the firemen calendar.” I smack my forehead. “Oh wait, I am. And clearly no one has ever looked as good in turnouts or a tux as I do.”

Gabe clears his throat. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your dirty little secret.”

I lift a curious eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“That you paid the calendar organizer for your placement on the cover.”

Derek’s eyes widen, and he chuckles under his breath. “Oh, I can’t wait to spread that rumor.”

Gabe straightens his bow tie. “It’s no rumor. It’s the God’s honest truth.”

“Like I said, jealousy is your color, Gabe,” I toss back. Then I angle my head to nod at Derek, who’s finishing up his final tux fitting, and drop the ribbing for a moment. “All kidding aside . . . looking good.”

He nods at my reflection, gratitude in the set of his jaw. “Thanks, man.”

And because I’m not a dick, even though I love to give these guys a hard time, I narrow my eyes at the three of us in the mirror. “I mean, hell. Just look at us in our tuxes. We could be the models for this shop.”

From behind me, the faint chuckling of the shop owner carries across the small store.

“Mr. Grayson,” I call, “I know you’re eager to slap our photo on the front window. Just admit it, and for you, we’ll even do it for free.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to scare anyone away,” the older man deadpans as he ambles over and straightens the shoulders on Gabe’s jacket.

I pout. “My modeling career is over. Guess I’ll stick to my day job. Also, speaking of how good we look, allow me to say this.” I turn and meet Derek’s dark eyes then pat his shoulder, bro-style. “I’m glad my sister is marrying you.”

Gabe places a hand on his heart. “Aww. I love it when Shaw goes all honest and mushy.”

I glare at my friend. “I’m not mushy.”

Gabe pinches his thumb and forefinger together. “A little mushy?”

I point at Derek. “He’s a good guy. He treats Perri well. Nuff said.”

“I do treat her well. She deserves nothing less.” Derek’s tone is heartfelt, full of the devotion he’s displayed to my sister, and I’m so damn glad she found a man like him. “I’m a lucky guy,” he tells me. “And I’m also glad you didn’t pull any of that don’t touch my sister shit.”

I laugh. “Perri does that enough for all of us when she pulls her don’t touch my friend shit.”

Derek chuckles. “I’ve never met a lioness more protective of her sister lions.”

I huff, wishing she wasn’t that way, but what can I do?

I sidestep the issue, glancing at the silver-haired shop owner. “Hey, Mr. Grayson, I think I could work in a tuxedo shop. Want to know why?”

“Why’s that?”

I wiggle my brows. “It suits me.”

“Ugh,” Derek groans, and Gabe joins in, followed by the proprietor. “Dude, you have the worst jokes.”

“That’s not true. I have awesome jokes. The ladies love them.”

Gabe shakes his head. “I don’t think they’re laughing at your jokes. I think they just feel sorry for you.”

I hold my arms out wide. “Who could feel sorry for me? Especially when they hear this one: what’s the difference between a man wearing pajamas on a bicycle and a guy wearing a tuxedo on a unicycle?”

“What is it?” Derek asks.

“Attire,” I say.

Gabe rolls his eyes. “You’re killing us.”

Mr. Grayson shoots me the side-eye. “If you keep this up, kid, you’re not going to have any lady to escort down the aisle at this wedding.”

“Please. They’ll be lined up. Speaking of . . .” I turn to Derek. “Which fine bridesmaid will I be walking down the aisle?”

The groom casts a glance at Gabe, almost as if they’re in on something, then answers, “Vanessa.”

I can’t even be bothered to wipe a little bit of the grin off my face. I was hoping that was what he’d say. “Excellent.”

“But don’t get too excited, because I don’t think she’s walking anywhere with you after that.” Derek unknots the bow tie.

“Why’s that?”

“It seems she’s being matched with a date at the wedding,” he says, all cool and casual as if this intel is no big deal, when it’s a gargantuan mess of a cat’s hairball.

I freeze. “Say that again.”

“You know Jamie Sullivan, right? I think you went to high school with him.” Derek shrugs out of his jacket and catches Mr. Grayson’s gaze. “The tux fits great, sir.”

“It sure does,” the man says as he fiddles with Gabe’s black jacket.

“Wait. What’s the story with Jamie Sullivan?” I ask crisply, remembering the all-American guy the girls in school fawned over.

Gabe taps his chin. “He was a few years older than you, wasn’t he? And if memory serves, wasn’t he the prom king?”

Forget ice. I’m fire now, and it’s crackling in my blood. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, no,” Derek cuts in. “He wasn’t just prom king. Perri told me he was the quarterback too. And you know he went on to law school.”

Gabe snaps his fingers. “And wasn’t it some fancy-ass law school? Yale, Harvard, something like that.”

Derek nods. “Exactly. One of those Ivy League schools, and now he’s a practicing attorney in San Francisco. Plus, he does all sorts of pro bono work to help lower-income families.”

I remove my bow tie, so hard I might have ripped it off. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Just wanted to remind you who he was,” Derek says, ever so casually.

Mr. Grayson adds, “The ladies who come in here to pick up suits for their men? They know Jamie. They talk about Jamie. From what I hear, he’s quite the catch. Yessiree.”

My eyes bulge. What the hell is going on? “Are you guys putting me on?”

Derek rests his hip against the counter.

“Why the hell would we do that? Jamie’s coming to the wedding.

My sister knows him. And Jamie’s stepmom is setting Vanessa up with him.

Vanessa’s game for it, apparently. I guess she’s ready for a man who’s interested in stepping off the merry-go-round, if you know what I mean. ”

Gabe nods to Derek. “Hey, should we invite Jamie to join our poker game? I hear he’s a wiz at cards.”

“He is not joining our poker game,” I spit out, and all three men crack up.

“Look who’s jelly now.” Gabe laughs.

“I’m not jealous,” I mutter.

I’m pissed.

I don’t want this law school dude coming to the poker game. I don’t want the former prom king hanging with my buds. And most of all, I definitely don’t want him taking Vanessa to the wedding, or out after it, or anywhere. “Why is Jamie’s stepmom setting them up?”

“Arden is all over it. So is Perri. Evidently, everyone thought it was a great idea,” Gabe offers.

After he tucks his measuring tape away, Mr. Grayson raises his hand. “Just my two cents, but I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

I seethe. It’s possible I might become a dragon. I do believe I’m breathing fire. “I don’t think he should be at the wedding, and he definitely shouldn’t be at the wedding with Vanessa.”

Derek claps my back. “I don’t know, Shaw. I think you might need to change your stance on Jamie Sullivan. Everyone seems to think they’d make a great couple, and he’s a pretty good guy. You might be seeing him more around town. Does that bother you for some reason?”

I try my damnedest to collect myself. “Why would it bother me?” I hiss in my best I’m laid-back and cool with it tone.

Gabe chuckles. “Man, you are going to have to come face-to-face with reality pretty damn soon.”

“What reality is that?”

“Your feelings for Vanessa Marquez.”