“She’s not a mystery woman. You’ve met her.” Derrick repositioned himself on the stool. “We’re putting off the honeymoon for a while, until I can get things under control at work.” He didn’t bother to mention his family was in the process of contesting the will, another reason he couldn’t risk taking off for an extended period.
“Hmm,” Matthew said distractedly, his gaze still focused on the women at the front. One of the bridesmaids momentarily paused in her conversation and looked in their direction. She smiled coyly and then looked away. A lascivious grin crept across Matthew’s face, and he pushed away from the wall. “Excuse me, gentlemen, some seeds I’ve planted have sprouted. I’ll have to call it a night.”
“Are you ever going to slow down?” Roarke asked.
“Slow down?” Matthew had a look on his face like Roarke had asked the most ridiculous question he’d ever heard. “Like you old married men? No way.”
“Who’re you calling old?” Derrick asked. “Thirty-three is not old.”
Matthew touched his hand to his chest. “I’m only twenty-seven. I’m in my prime. You guys are old, so I understand why you felt the need to get married.”
“Thirty-three isn’t old, Matt,” Roarke said. “One of these days you’re going to meet a woman who knocks you off your feet, and then you’ll be eating those words.”
“Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.” Matthew started backing away and patted his stomach. “Nice touch with the filet mignon, Derrick. Congratulations to you and the new missus. I’m out.”
He strolled across the almost empty ballroom and stopped in front of the young women. He bent his head to the one who held his interest and whispered in her ear, which made her giggle. As they slipped out the door, he flashed the thumbs-up sign behind his back to his brothers.
Derrick lifted the glass of champagne to his lips. “I remember those days,” he said before taking a sip.
“They weren’t that long ago.” Roarke seated himself two stools down.
True. Until he met Eva, he’d been as bad as Matthew. Women came easily, and because he came from money, it was even easier. He’d partied quite a bit in the VIP rooms of exclusive clubs, hanging with celebrities, and jetting around the world to various events—some known, others so secret invitations had to be hand delivered. He’d partied hard, but he’d worked hard, too. Whenever he worked on a business project, he gave it a hundred and ten percent. Phineas had insisted on it.
It had been nothing for him to drop thousands of dollars in a night to impress a woman, but he’d always gotten bored easily. The relationships never had any substance, and he’d been content to play the field—until her.
“Now we’re alone, how about telling me the whole story about Eva? Matthew’s right. She’s not your type.”
“You don’t know what my type is.”
“Actually, I do, and it’s not her. And, considering this is your wedding day, the two of you haven’t been acting like a happily married couple.”
“This is the part where I tell you to mind your own business.”
Roarke laughed softly, unconcerned by Derrick’s ill-tempered response. From the corner of his eye, Derrick saw him stroke his jaw. “I can’t figure this out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” Derrick said irritably. “Why don’t you go home with your wife and daughter? Like she said, it’s late.”
Roarke twisted in his direction on the stool. “Enough joking around. It’s obvious the two of you have been avoiding each other almost all night. Maybe no one else has noticed, but I have. If it weren’t for the kiss during the ceremony, I’d think you couldn’t stand each other. Most newly married couples leave the guests partying at the reception. The two of are among the last ones here. What’s going on?”
Derrick’s jaw tensed. “Nothing.”
“Derrick, are we going to do this or not?”
He looked at his brother’s solemn face. “Do what?”
“This.” Roarke motioned from one to the other. “Be brothers. Be family. Be closer.”
“If you think I’m going to start spilling my guts to you, you’re wrong. It’s only been a few months. I don’t even know if I like you yet.”
“Yet you asked me to be your best man.”