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Aidan understood why Cait didn’t want to come. More than pulling focus from him and Viv was the fact she’d gotten married to Finn in the same church by the same priest. Aidan felt the loss acutely today, and he knew it would be tenfold for Cait if she was here. He didn’t blame her for staying away and shielding herself from the memories for as long as possible. They were crushing.
“Hey.” James poked his head around the door. “Can I come in?”
“You’re asking?”
“No.” James eased the door closed behind him and produced a bottle of scotch from one jacket pocket and a stack of shot glasses from another. “I brought refreshments. Your brothers should be in here next. Declan was checking with the extra security he added, and Brogan was—”
“Avoiding me.”
James sighed as he lined up the glasses on the low coffee table. “He won’t hate you forever. He has to forgive you—and himself—eventually.”
“Clearly you don’t know my brother. I’m pretty sure he’s still mad at me for breaking his video game console when I was seven.”
“You threw it out a window.”
“I did not throw it out a window,” Aidan protested. “My foot got caught on the cord, and when I tried to get it off, I kicked it a little too hard.”
“Almost twenty years later, and that excuse still sounds like horseshit. Here.” He pressed a shot glass into Aidan’s hand. “Pre-game with me.Sláinte.”
James clinked his glass against Aidan’s and downed his shot with a hiss as Aidan did the same, shaking his head as the amber liquid burned a trail down his throat.
“Getting started without me?” Declan asked, pushing into the room. “Christ, you’re shooting Macallan? Have I taught you nothing?”
“We’ll sip it later,” James assured him, refilling their glasses and passing them out.
“Brogan is checking security feeds one more time and threatening Danny McBride with pain of death if he fucks something up today. He’ll be along in a minute.”
“The fear of God as motivation. Brogan’s favorite,” Aidan said.
“What’s my favorite?” Brogan asked from the doorway.
“Threatening Danny McBride if he fucks up your equipment,” James replied. “Come. Shots.”
“How many of these have you had so far?” Brogan wondered as James raised his glass into the air.
“Enough to get me through the day without being catatonic. Not enough to embarrass myself. Promise.”
“There are two photographers out there. Don’t make me cut you off,” Declan warned, seemingly satisfied when James drew an X over his heart. “And you.” He turned to survey Aidan. “Don’t get wasted at the reception.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Declan slapped Aidan on the shoulder and raised his glass. “May the road rise to meet you.”
“May the wind be always at your back,” James continued.
“May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall soft upon your fields,” Brogan added.
“And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand,” Declan finished.
“Sláinte,” Aidan said, clinking his glass against the others and downing the shot.
“One more,” Brogan said, motioning to the bottle. “For Finn,” he added when Declan protested.
Declan nodded. “For Finn.”
The silence was thick as James filled their glasses once more, setting the bottle back on the table with a heavy thunk.
“For the family who can’t be here with us today,” Brogan said. “For Mom and Dad.”
