Grace hummed. “Next week it is.”
Max could count on his fingers the amount of times he’d seen Carter lose his shit. Despite his reputation, Max’s best friend was fairly chill about most things. His wedding day, however, was not one of them. Max couldn’t remember seeing Carter so flustered and, honestly, it was funny as fuck.
“Stop laughing and help me, assholes!” Carter exclaimed from his place by a full-length mirror where he’d been battling with his peach-colored tie for at least fifteen minutes. “I’m useless at these fuckin’ things.”
Max snorted from his spot in the doorway next to Riley and approached, swatting Carter’s hands away and tying the tie from behind, his arms reaching over Carter’s shoulders. He smiled widely at his friend in the mirror.
“Fuck off,” Carter grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I know you love seeing me like this.”
“You bet your ass,” Max commented. He adjusted the perfect knot of the tie at Carter’s throat and patted his friend’s belly twice. “Done.” Carter exhaled and nodded as Max stepped back.
“Have another drink,” Max offered, reaching for a half-filled champagne flute and passing it to him. There were hundreds of them dotted around the beach house, left by the various people milling about. Max wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so many busy people.
Carter knocked the drink back and sighed. He glanced at the large watch on his wrist and swallowed audibly. It was showtime in fifteen minutes. Max chuckled and handed him his gray suit jacket. “Dude, relax, you’d think you were due in court.”
“No,” Carter answered, with a finger pointed in Max’s face. “There’s no way I’d be this nervous if that was the case.”
Both Riley and Max laughed. Max glanced back at Riley, who, understanding the need for the two best friends to have a moment, nodded and snuck out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“What are you so nervous about, man?” Max asked, looking back at Carter, who placed his empty glass down on a nearby shelf and shrugged into his jacket. “Isn’t this what you want?”
“Yes!” Carter blurted. “Yes, of course, I can’t wait to see her, to marry her, but . . .” He glanced at the window, out toward the beach where rows of chairs were filling with people and a white archway decorated in white and peach-colored flowers stood in front of a very official-looking man, all waiting for the wedding to begin.
“You’re just scared about fucking up?”
Carter nodded and whispered, “Shitless.”
Max smiled and stepped closer to his best friend. “You’ve got this, brother. Okay? She loves you. Fuck knows why”—they both chuckled—“but she does.” He squeezed Carter’s shoulder. “So go down there and show everyone why she chose you.”
Carter’s eyes glistened in a way that made Max shift on his feet. “I’m proud of you, Max,” he said softly. “So fucking proud.”
Max had no time to reply before Carter pulled him into a tight hug. There were no backslaps, no manly declarations, just two men with twenty years of friendship between them, silently appreciating how far they’d both come.
Carter never wavered after that.
Max stood proudly at his side, where he’d always been and would always be, as Carter married Kat, who was stunning in her ivory dress. The vows they both spoke were moving and said with such fervency that, a few times, Max’s chest echoed with a pang of longing for Grace. Nevertheless, Max was the first to stand, clap, and cheer when Kat and Carter had their first kiss as husband and wife.
Outside the beach house, on the sand, a dance floor and bar area had been constructed, surrounded by white tables where the wedding party ate their meal and toasted the bride and groom. The lapping ocean was the only sound track to Max’s best man’s speech, before the DJ invited the newlyweds onto the floor for their first dance. Watching the happy couple dance to Otis Redding, Max recalled dancing with Grace in the godforsaken bar Ruby had taken them to that July weekend and smiled quietly to himself at the memory. She’d looked so damned beautiful that night.
Riley thumped down next to Max as the dance floor started to fill up. “Sweet speech. You did good, man,” he uttered, his eyes on a young brunette dancing not ten feet away.
Max grinned. “Thanks, dude.”
Riley looked over at him and winked. “So, you and running girl—you ready for all this?” He gestured toward where Kat and Carter swayed slowly amid the other, more exuberant dancers on the floor; the newlyweds were staring at one another as though the entire world had stopped around them.
Max shook his head. “Not a wedding.”
He watched as Carter’s head fell back, laughing loudly at something Kat had said. Max’s chest tightened with undeniable joy for his friend, which was swiftly followed by a Grace-shaped ache. “But being happy? Yeah, I’m more than ready for that.”
“Amen, brother,” Riley murmured, turning from where Brunette was making heart eyes at him, and rested his elbows on the tabletop.