“Do you know he asked me to tutor him in math for four years?”
“But—” Alec’s jaw dropped. “They’re brilliant. That’s a great idea.” He bounced up and then started to rush out but turned around to clean up his plate, then grabbed his soda and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re not so bad for a sister.”
“Hey, Alec,” I called. “You’re not so bad yourself. Just remember—be her friend so she knows you are. Okay?”
“I can do that. And I’ll tell Craig and Chloe to come eat—and I’ll apologize to Craig and tell him he can play my game.”
He rushed out and up the stairs before I could comment. The fact that he then yelled his apologies and that they needed to get down here and eat before the door to his room slammed, just made me laugh.
“Frankie,” Chloe said as she and Craig came in. “Can we watch movies this afternoon?”
“Yep, but first, I have to beat Craig at that game he was playing.”
She grimaced as Craig got all smug-faced.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how to play it too.”
“Wait, what?”
“Go ahead and eat. I just need to text the guys really quick.”
“I’m never getting a boyfriend,” Chloe announced. “They are way too much work, and guys suck.”
“As if anyone wants you for a girlfriend,” Craig snarked. Then she pinched him.
Hard.
“Ow,” he complained. “See, this is why they won’t.”
“Good,” she told him, and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing.
“Just eat your food and stop picking on each other for five minutes.”
Opening up our group text message I sent, You guys take my breath away. Also, all those arguments over who I was studying with or helping with projects or just tutoring—thank you. Even if I didn’t get it then, I did know y’all were my friends. Love you.
CHAPTER SIX
HERE COME THE BRIDES
JAKE
It seemed almost surreal to be back in Texas, where the Christmas decorations filled the yards and the stores while the air conditioning was blasting. A cold front was coming in by the weekend, though, and there were ice storm warnings coming with it.
As often as this had been our holiday season, I was already missing New York. There was a foot of snow on the ground. A stark contrast to when we’d made a foray to Rockefeller to see the tree after they lit it this year. The live performances had been fun and it had been just a great night all the way around. A nice break from the finals grind.
“Hey,” Frankie said, pulling me back to the present. She was fixing my tie—something she’d perfected over the last two weeks of fittings. My parents’ wedding was a kind of bohemian marriage between tradition with their unique flavor of love. “You good?”
I grinned at her as I gave her a once over. Klara had asked Frankie to be her best woman, which—I couldn’t blame Klara for that, Frankie was definitely my best woman. My only one. Blake, Becca, and Louisa were bridesmaids. Bubba and Joe were groomsmen, and I got to be Dad’s best man.
“I’m good,” I promised her, tempted as hell to kiss the pink slick of gloss and color right off her lips. But considering she’d endured a whole litany of color testing with the girls to make sure she complemented without dominating, I was pretty sure she’d pop me.
Worth it.
“You look edible,” I teased, taking advantage of the closeness to adjust her tie. Frankie wasn’t in a full suit like me, instead, she wore a waistcoat that matched mine over a billowy long-sleeved shirt. Similarly, her tie had been designed to match. But whereas mine was just blue with a silver pattern on it, hers seemed to practically sparkle under the light.
Or maybe it was just Frankie.
“Well, you need to curb your appetites for now. If I mess up this hair, Klara and Alicia might genuinely have a nervous breakdown.”
I frowned. “They’re that bad?” That made no sense.
“It’s their wedding day, and before you say they were married before,” she continued, smoothing down my jacket. “I think that makes it even more nerve-wracking.”
“Because it didn’t work out the first time.” I sighed, tension fisting my gut as she linked her fingers with mine. Eyes closed, I rested my forehead on Frankie’s. “Should I say something to them?”
“I think you being here, being a part of their day and supporting them, says a lot.”
“How’d you get so smart?”
“Born this way.”
I chuckled.
“Okay, it’s my wedding day, you two,” Dad said as he came out of the backroom and smoothed down his suit. “It feels weird not to be in my uniform.”
“I think you look great, Bill,” Frankie told him and I shifted to face him.
“You do look kind of weird,” I admitted. It wasn’t like he was in uniform all the time, but… “Mom is going to appreciate the gesture, though.”
“Yeah?” Dad, who did not fumble, fucked his tie up.
After squeezing Frankie’s hands, I turned to him. “Let me help.”
“I’m going to check on Klara,” Frankie murmured, pressing a kiss to Dad’s cheek. “You really do look great. Almost as good as Jake.”
He laughed, some of the tension cracking. When she turned to me, she winked before all but sauntering to the door.
“You got lucky with that one,” Dad said to me after the door closed behind her.
“Yes, I did.” You’d never get an argument out of me on that subject. I loosened his tie and went back to work retying it—just another layer to the weird of the day, I supposed.
“Is this when you threaten me?” Dad asked and I quirked a brow.
“Do I need to threaten you?” Cause we’d had a few conversations after he and Klara had begun to actively pursue Mom again. Then why now? Why not sooner? What were they planning on changing? Could they change? Most of it was none of my business except…
“I love your mother,” Dad told me as I finished the Windsor knot with one last adjustment. “I always have.”
“I know.”
“We’re determined to make this work.”
“I know that too.”
Dad halted my backing up with a hand on my shoulder. “Do you?”
“Pretty sure you were clear on that last year when I asked you if you were serious because I didn’t want Mom hurt again. I had a front-row seat to that for years.”
“You were pretty pissed off at me.”
Sighing, I met his gaze evenly. “Yeah, I was. Pissed at you. Pissed at Klara. I think some part of me was angry with Mom but…”
“It’s tough being mad at Alicia,” Dad admitted. “She always seems so much more delicate, but she’s tougher than me and Klara put together.”
“She had to deal with my hell-raising,” I pointed out.
“She did a damn good job with all of you.” He tightened his grip then let me go to back up himself. This closeness between us still had a way to go. Dad was a tough guy. He wasn’t the kind of dad who’d been in touch with his feelings like Joe and could express them easily.