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“Adriana, c’mon, you deserve a honeymoon. You don’t need to help me.”
“Lex, I’m Mrs. Evans, nothing will ever change that. I don’t need a tropical island to enjoy my husband. Please let me do this, you are marrying my best friend, and I don’t want to miss a thing.”
It was all set. Finn texted me at the café warning me they were about to leave. Everyone had flown in. Kate made sure all flights and accommodations were booked accordingly.
Eric and Nikki had picked out the emerald green dress Charlotte was to change into courtesy of an associate’s close friend, Vera Wang.
It was time.
The moment she walked through the double doors, she was completely stunned by the scenery, her eyes scanning the room. I knew she was taken back to a time and moment that held a lot of promises for us.
When her eyes found me standing in the middle of the dance floor in my tux, she ran to me. Her kiss smothering me, not allowing me to get a single word in, but I couldn’t help it. I allowed it to linger because I knew at midnight she would be officially mine, and that thought alone made me not want to let her go.
When she emerged from the restroom, I couldn’t help but be in awe of this beautiful woman walking toward me.
My words came out perfectly, exactly how I pictured them, having rehearsed it a million times in my head.
She said yes to marrying me… again.
“Look at this pussy-whipped fucker, all daydreaming and shit. C’mon, we only have five hours to partay!” Rocky hurries us along onto the yacht.
We climb on-board, the other guests are somehow already here. As well as Rocky and Elijah, there is my dad, Mark Mason, Finn, and my Uncle Hank. With a stunned expression, Eric has also joined us. I’m wondering why on earth he wants to hang out with the men unless Rocky had plans to turn this yacht into some Mardi Gras celebration.
Anything is possible with him.
Standing beside them is also one of my long-time friends from London—Bentley James Woods.
“Well, look here, if it isn’t my long-lost mate, Lex Edwards,” Bentley speaks loud enough so everyone onboard can hear.
“BJ, where the hell have you been?”
“Not getting engaged and having babies. You’ve gone arse over tit for a bird? Who would have thought?”
“BJ?” Eric quizzes. “Do I dare assume?”
“Mate, the initials are an instant pick-up line, and my instincts tell me you ain’t gonna get a kick out of the pussy on parade tonight,” BJ insinuates.
“Oh, hell no, I’m all about the tallywacker!”
“Dude, you’ve been spending way too much time with Kate,” Rocky mentions as he walks by.
BJ’s face lights up. I know what he’s thinking. “How is my good ole chum, Kate?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, not wanting to delve into the history of Kate and BJ. Kate’s personal life is exactly that—personal. But when she started screwing BJ, it became my business, much to my dismay. I’m almost certain Eric’s texting Kate already wanting her version of this story which makes me think he has joined us to report back to the women.
I quickly greet everyone, Mark pulling my arm in for a moment.
“Listen here, boy. No touching anything that comes on this boat. I’m watching you,” he warns.
“Not with a ten-foot sail, Mark.”
Such terrible boat humor.
I head to the bar where BJ stands. The music has started, not so loud that I’m not able to hear him speak. He orders a round of shots, ignoring his signature drink—rum and Coke.
“It’s been four months since our last pint at the Yorkshire Grey, and you’re a changed man.” BJ coaxes me to take the shot which the bartender places before us. We count down, and in unison, drink the nasty liquor threatening to compromise my judgment on anything which may take place tonight.
“Changed for the better. I may have spoken about her once.” The shot is almost like swallowing acid, and I let out a loose cough.
