Clearly what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas.
Not with the Landrys.
Because of course it didn’t.
“Fletcher!”
Fletcher focused on the woman standing just to one side of the table.
Elizabeth Landry was beaming at him.
“Hi, Mom.”
Elizabeth came forward with her arms spread wide. Fletcher let her hug him, even as he silently groaned. Things had definitely just gotten real.
“I’m so happy for you and Jordan,” Elizabeth said.
“You’re not shocked?” Fletcher asked.
Elizabeth laughed. “I would’ve been shocked if you hadn’t married her while you were in Vegas together.”
Fletcher shook his head. He supposed his shock over their reactions was really the unexpected emotion here. Maybe this all made sense. Maybe he and Jordan being together was exactly how this was supposed to go. He did believe that, but he’d honestly thought he might need to do a little more convincing of the people around him.
What he should do was appreciate the fact that no one seemed upset.
And hey, there was cake.
“Son.” Ray, Fletcher’s father, approached. He was also smiling widely. He first took Fletcher’s hand, then pulled him in for a hug. “Way to go. Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s about time you and Jordan figured this all out,” Ray said.
Fletcher nodded. “I guess we were the last to know how this should go.”
“Well, maybe besides Jason,” Ray added with a chuckle.
But hell, Jason hadn’t even texted since Jordan had made him look like the good guy and she and Fletcher had ducked into a wedding chapel.
“No, I really think it’s me and Jordan who are going to have to work on getting used to this,” Fletcher said.
“Nah,” Ray told him. “You and Jordan know each other better than I knew your mother when we got married.” He looped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “And we’re at twenty-eight years.”
Fletcher nodded. “True. So no fatherly advice on being a good husband?”
“You know better than anyone what Jordan needs,” Ray said. “Just…give that to her. Keep bein’ her best friend. Keep havin’ fun and makin’ each other laugh.”
He could do that. His dad made it sound so easy.
“I’d tell you to be sure you didn’t forget her birthday or anniversaries or things like that,” Elizabeth said. “But you’ve always been good about that. I remember her first birthday after you became friends. You insisted on calling her first thing that morning. It was seven a.m. and I was sure Molly would be put out by having her phone ring that early. But she’d been delighted. And you called her right after you woke up every single year after that.” Elizabeth tipped her head. “I assume you still do that.”
Fletcher just tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded.
He’d always wanted to be the first person to tell Jordan he was glad she’d been born and that had never changed. Cheesy? Maybe. But it had been true. So he called her and told her that.
It was really that simple.
Or it had been.
The thing about knowing someone at the age of six—you didn’t have filters. You didn’t worry about cheesy. You didn’t think about that being misconstrued as anything other than “I’m glad you were born”. Because the other six-year-old took it at face value too.
You also didn’t think about how people might say things like, “ooh, Fletcher, do you wanna kiss Jordan?” when they hung out at recess together at age eight. Of course, Jacob Bernard had been the last kid to say something like that. Jordan had punched him in the nose for it.
You didn’t think about how it might be strange for your friend to give you a big hug when she saw you at the bonfire party. Even if she was wearing only a bikini and you were in swim trunks.
You didn’t think about what people might think when she sat on your lap in the back of a pickup at a barbecue because she was cold and wanted you to warm her up. Literally. Not in any kind of sexual way.
Because you’d known her since you were six.
And then you went to Galveston with her because you didn’t want her on the road alone for five hours one way and when there was only one bed in one hotel room, you didn’t think anything of it…until you did.
Until suddenly she was sexy and sweet and felt so fucking good and smelled so fucking good and you tasted her for the first time and your world tipped on its head. And never righted itself.
So, then you married her the second you were given the opportunity because you wanted to be the first person to tell her you were glad she’d been born on every birthday for the rest of your life and it would be a lot easier if she was just lying next to you in bed.
Fletcher turned and looked across the room to where Jordan was still standing with Naomi and Charlie and the other girls.
She lifted her gaze just then and their eyes met.
Across the fucking room. Like one of those romance movies that his grandma had pointed out ended when the couple got together.
Jordan gave him a small smile. A smile that said wow-these-people-are-a-lot-and-I-love-them-so-much.
God, he was so glad she’d been born.
“You’re going to be great,” Elizabeth told him, squeezing his arm and pulling Fletcher’s attention back to his parents. “You and Jordan just fit.”
Fletcher took a deep breath. “Yeah. We do.”
“Why are we standing around talking when there’s cake to eat?” Zeke called over the general din in the room.
“That’s a damned good question,” Zander told him. “Cora! Is this cake just for looking at?”
“Oh hush!” Cora told him, heading around behind the table with a huge knife. “Y’all act like we haven’t fed you for days. You just ate dinner two hours ago and I’ve seen you stealing hors d’oeuvres from this table all night.”
Zander laughed. “Hors d’oeuvres? What the hell is that? These are cheese and crackers and alligator balls.”
Cora shook the knife at him, frowning even though Fletcher could see the corners of her mouth twitching. “When it’s a wedding reception, we call them hors d’oeuvres. Like classy people.”
Zander and Zeke both laughed loudly at that.
“Chips and dips are chips and dips, Cora,” Zeke told her, grabbing a tortilla chip from the bowl and dunking into a pinkish-red dip before popping it in his mouth. “No matter what fancy names you call them.” He crunched for a moment. “Though we can call this really-fucking-good dip if you want.”
Cora sighed. “I don’t think I’m going to take ‘classy’ notes from a grown man who talks with his mouth full.”
“You’re gonna have to look far and wide from this place if you need notes on being classy,” Zeke said.
Zeke gave her a wink and Cora shook her head, finally losing the battle with her smile.
“Why would you worry about classy now?” Leo asked, joining them. “We’ve all been doin’ just fine for seventy-some years without any class.”
He chuckled as Cora rolled her eyes, while not even bothering to try to hide her smile now.
Fletcher felt someone press against his side and an arm wrap around his waist. He knew it was Jordan even before he looked down.