Page 4

“It’s a state of being,” Knox said.

“That’s what I said, but she disagreed.”

Gabriel poured Ronan a glass of wine. “How’s the reading going?”

“Chapter five says I should name my feelings as I experience them.” Ronan took a sip of wine. “Right now I’m experiencing irritation.”

“See? Growth,” Gabriel said.

The waiter appeared and recommended the osso buco with a look that suggested refusal would be personally insulting. Gabriel ordered the chicken, the way Gabriel ordered the chicken everywhere, and the waiter’s nostrils flared, but he wrote it down.

“So,” Gabriel said, leaning back. “The wedding.”

“Ronan briefed me.”

“Then you know it’s now September.”

“I know it’s September, I know Tessa found a venue, and I know you need a best man who can also manage a budget. I’ll do both.”

“You and Lucy,” Gabriel said. “In the same room. Repeatedly. Are you sure you’re up for that?”

Knox reached for the bread basket. The bread was excellent, crusty and warm, cracking when he tore it apart. He gave it his full, grim concentration, which conveniently ruled out eye contact.

“I can handle Lucy Wang.”

“Can you?” Gabriel asked. “Because at my engagement party, you walked into a wall on your way out of the kitchen.”

“The doorframe was poorly placed.”

Gabriel and Ronan exchanged a look. Knox recognized the look. It was the same one they’d given each other in the conference room all those years ago, the silent two-second negotiation he’d learned to ignore on principle. Except now the negotiation wasn’t about financial targets. It was about him.

“I’m fine,” Knox said.

“‘Fine’ is not an emotion,” Ronan quoted. He looked surprised at himself.

Gabriel leaned forward. His expression softened from amused to something uncomfortably close to sincere. “Knox. We’re not pushing. But you’ve been wound tighter than usual since the party. And that’s saying something for a man whose resting state is ‘coiled spring.’”

“My resting state is ‘prepared.’”

“Your resting state is exhausting. And we’re worried.”

“Don’t be.”

“Too late.” Gabriel held his gaze. “You’re our best friend. You were Ronan’s best man when he married the love of his life, and now you’re mine. We want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I have excellent quarterly numbers, a reliable dry cleaner, and a ribeye on the way.”

The food arrived. Knox ate his ribeye. It was perfect. The conversation drifted to Gabriel’s honeymoon plans, Tessa’s opinions on floral arrangements, and Ronan’s ongoing struggle with the concept of vulnerability, which he was approaching with the same analytical rigor he’d once applied to hostile acquisitions.

“Devney says vulnerability is strength,” Ronan reported. “I asked her to quantify that, and she threw a pillow at me.”

“Progress,” Gabriel said.

“She also signed me up for couples yoga.” Ronan paused. “I don’t bend.”

“Emotionally or physically?” Knox asked.

“Both.”