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"Now get your ass back here from Syria," Max says.
"C'mon. You didn't think I'd be the first to get married?" Remy snorts. He knows to divert conversation away from my upcoming assignment. The subject makes Max nervous, probably because he can't monitor where I am at all times. It's a big brother thing, I think.
"Please." Max rolls his eyes. "Have you ever been in love?"
"Multiple times," Remy says. "On many different nights with many different women."
Tate chuckles. He and Remy are so much alike in that department.
"And hey, what's up with you and the maid of honor, Max? Did I detect a hint of attraction there? Or am I wrong?" Tate says with a wicked grin. I know he's trying to take the piss out of our oldest brother. "If I'm wrong, I wouldn't mind?—"
"Shut the hell up," Max says, taking a second swill of his scotch.
"Ooh. Touchy, touchy." Tate holds up his hands. "Guess someone's claimed the maid of honor. I'll have to look elsewhere."
"Boys." Dad's deep voice rumbles through the room. All of us instantly shut up, because when Dad speaks, we all listen. "I'd like to have a word with Damien alone. And it's probably time the rest of you clowns walk down the aisle, right?"
My brothers finish their drinks. Both Max and Tate shoot me meaningful looks.
"See you outside, bro. You ready?" Tate asks.
I nod. Ready for this to be over with, because I long for the peace that being next to Kate brings to my brain.
"You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to," Max mutters. "Not too late to stop this train."
"I want to, and that's final. I'm not a kid anymore, bro. And sometimes life doesn't operate on a strict timetable." My voice is a little too harsh.
"Just looking out for you," Max says softly. "But you know what? You're right. You're a man. And I'm proud to stand next to you today. Love you.” He squeezes my shoulder and walks out, trailed by a visibly alarmed Tate.
Remy stands next to me with a goofy look on his face.
"You're being oddly sentimental," I grumble.
With a giant grin on his face, he folds me into a huge hug. "I'm happy for you, dude. Kate's a great woman. I'm a hundred percent in favor of this, even if some others in the family aren't. Screw 'em. You'll show them. You’ll show the whole fucking town."
"Thanks." Of all the people in my family, my twin's the only one who would never question my motives. For that, I'm grateful.
Remy claps me on the back, gives me a tight-lipped smile, and walks out of the suite.
That leaves me and Angus.Dad. I only call him Angus in my mind.
He stares into his scotch, as if looking for the right words. Then he looks up.
"Son, did I ever tell you how long I knew your mother before we got married?"
I scowl. "Dunno. A year?"
"We met on an airplane. You know that."
"Right, and the plane was going from Miami to New York, but there was an emergency landing in Tampa.And once you landed, your flight couldn't take off because of a huge snowstorm in New York." He and Mom have told this story a thousand times; it was back in the 80s. Dad was a singer in a punk rock band and Mom had gone against her parents' wishes and had traveled around India. Alone.
Dad nods. "Your mom and I spent a week together here on Paradise Beach. Then we both went back to New York and decided we couldn't live without each other. We got married on the beach down the street not far from here. Three months after we met."
"Wow. I didn't know it was so soon."
"It's been almost thirty-nine years."
Dad's not one to reveal a lot of emotion, and I'm shocked into uncomfortable silence that he's even talking about any of this with me.
