He holds up his free hand. “Sorry. Continue.”
“You’ve been blessed to find the love of your life.” Declan’s face warms a bit at the mention of Sweets. “You’re lucky that Lucky agreed to be your wife.”
“Woo!” Penny chants from the foyer, throwing up her arms.
“Isn’t this supposed to be a poem praisingme?” Declan asks the little mutt in his hand in a baby voice that is absolutely repulsive.
I keep pushing. I need to get this over with.
“I fucked up and I’m sorry, but I promise to do all I can.” I inhale a big breath and drop my puffed-up, costume-covered arms. “If you allow me the honour of being a groomsman.”
There. I’m done.
We stare at each other.
Declan’s face is full of bewilderment. The little dog stares at me like I’m offending her by dressing like her after reciting that bullshit. Penny is fighting to catch her breath inside, and eventually, Arden turns the volume down on the sad melody.
Lowesy still says nothing.
Someone take me out back and shoot me.
After a long, long moment, his eyes flicker behind me. “Is it Arden or Boston hiding in the driveway?”
I hear the shuffle of footsteps and see her wave from my peripheral, but I don’t look away from him.
“Arden.”
Declan dips his chin. He looks back at me. “How much did the costume cost you?”
“Seventy bucks,” I grumble.
He nods again, considering this. “Did you write that yourself?”
“I had help,” I admit.
His eyes flicker back to Arden. “How’s your pride feeling?”
“Fucking tragic, man.”
Declan breaks into a grin, reaches forward, and smacks me on the inflatable shoulder. “I’ll consider it.”
My heart sinks. “What?”
He turns back toward the house, waving us both in. “Comein and have a coffee. There are cinnamon rolls fromHunny Bunsin the oven.”
“Please. I’m starving,” Arden slides between me and the open door. I glance at her, disappointed and embarrassed. She offers a tight smile and pats the arm of this stupid costume. “You did good, Bub. Let’s get this off you.”
I still haven’t said a word when Penny places a cinnamon roll in front of me. It looks great, but I don’t particularly feel hungry. Arden was certain that would work. Hell, I was, too. I’m not a poet, but that was pretty good writing for an idiot who doesn’t know much beyond skates and a headset. It was funny. That’s what mattered.
Lowesy vanished a few minutes after I got that costume off, so I’ve been sitting here, listening to Penny and Arden talk, all on my own. Not about my performance, either. It’s like it never happened.
My pride is currently in a blender.
After a few sips of my cappuccino, Declan saunters back down the stairs. He slaps his hand on my back and slides an elegant, black box in front of me.
Arden sucks in a little, shocked breath.
I drag my eyes to Lowesy as he rounds the other side of the table.
