“Yeah, I remember. I’d be happier about the whole thing with what’s his face if he wasn’t such a completely incompetent dipshit,” I told her.
“His name is Maverick,” Austin cut in. “And you can’t fucking talk, man. Your name is Jensen,” he drawled my name out, exaggerating the second syllable. “It’s a fucking weird name, too.”
“It’s not a weird name. Maverick is a douche name, especially since he goes by Maverick and not Mav or Rick or something.”
Morgan rolled the big brown eyes she’d inherited from our mother. “Let’s drop it, shall we? Where is Landon anyway?”
As if on cue, my twenty-seven-year-old younger brother Landon schlepped into the room. His wife, Miranda, followed in his footsteps in the same dress as Morgan. My eyes slid over to Morgan. She returned the look, saying a million things in that one glance.
“Hey, Landon,” Austin said when he realized neither of us were going to say shit since Miranda was here.
“Hey,” Landon said, sinking into a seat next to Austin.
He looked beat.
Landon was the only one of us who didn’t work for the company. Austin and Morgan both worked for me at Wright Construction, and Sutton would once she graduated—or that had been the plan before she got pregnant. Now, I’d probably have to hire Maverick in her place, so she could take care of that baby.
Landon had graduated from Stanford—unlike the rest of our family who had attended Texas Tech since the school’s founding in the 1920s—but instead of putting his business degree to good use, he had joined the professional golf circuit. That was when he’d met Miranda. They’d dated for only six months before he proposed. Just like we were doing with Sutton, we’d all sworn that Miranda was pregnant and using him for his money. But when she hadn’t had a baby nine months later, we had all been fucking baffled.
It was one thing to marry a girl like Miranda for a baby. You had to take care of the kid. That always fucking came first. No matter who the mother was. It was another thing to marry a girl like Miranda because you liked her—or, fuck, loved her.
“Well, what a happy reunion this is,” Miranda said. She eyed us all like she was trying to figure out how to wiggle more money out of the Wright family. There might as well have been actual dollar signs in her eyes.
“Miranda,” Austin said. He stood and gave her a quick hug. “Good to see you.”
“Thanks, Austin,” she said with a giggle.
Austin, the peacekeeper. That used to be Landon but not anymore. Not since the wicked bitch had sunk her claws into him.
As a man who had been through a brutal divorce already, I couldn’t figure out why Landon hadn’t handed over the paperwork. Being around Miranda for a solid five minutes was too much for me, and it made Morgan lose her shit. I hated that Landon always looked like someone had kicked his puppy.
I’d been there. I knew what that was like. I did not want him to have to go through the same thing I had. Or end up with the same consequences.
“Come on, Morgan,” Miranda trilled. “I’m sure Sutton will need us with the other bridesmaids.”
“I’m sure. Why don’t you head over there and tell her I’ll be just a minute?” Morgan said, using the slow voice she typically reserved for small children.
Miranda shot her an evil glare. Or maybe that was her face. I could never tell.
Then, she grabbed Landon’s arm. “I’ll see you at the ceremony, honey. Kiss?”
Landon turned his face up to her, and she latched on to his lips like a leech.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said automatically.
When she was gone, we all breathed a sigh of relief.
“Bless her heart,” Morgan drawled.
“Y’all,” Landon groaned, “don’t.”
Morgan started humming the theme song for the Wicked Witch of the West.
“Are you ever going to give it a break, Morgan?” Landon asked.
“No, probably not.”
“We’ve been married for two years now.”
“I can’t believe you’re staying at a hotel,” I said.
Landon shrugged and reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a glass. “Miranda wanted to stay downtown.”
“And, before we start World War III by bringing up Miranda,” Austin cut in, “I feel like someone should grab Sutton. We’re about to suffer through a couple of hours of pictures with eighteen of her closest friends. Might have some time, just the five of us.”
“I limited her to nine bridesmaids,” I said.
“That’s a limit?” Morgan asked with a huff. “I don’t think I even like nine people.”
“You weren’t in a sorority either,” I reminded her.
“I don’t like people. I certainly wouldn’t like to pay for new sisters. Sutton is above and beyond.”
Austin and Landon laughed, and that sound finally made me relax. It was nice to have all my siblings back in one place. With Sutton in school and Landon living on some beach in Florida where he could golf year-round, it just wasn’t the same. Some people thought the Wright siblings were…odd. They thought we were too close, but we had to be. With both parents gone, we were all each other had.
“You want to go see if she’s decent?” I asked Morgan.
She groaned. “This is what I get for being the only other girl.”
I opened the door for her, and she hiked up her dress and stormed out. I knew she wasn’t happy about having to spend the next twelve-plus hours with seven other girls she didn’t know or like, plus Miranda, but there was nothing I could do about it. Trying to convince Sutton to do anything was like trying to move a mountain. She might be tiny, but she was a firecracker.
I grabbed the bottle of whiskey out of Landon’s hands before he and Austin could finish it. Leaving the two of them alone with alcohol would guarantee a disaster. Then, I rummaged through my bag and found the group of shot glasses I’d brought with me. I was setting them up right when Sutton returned with Morgan.
“Hey, y’all!” Sutton said, flouncing into the room with a skip in her step. “Morgan said you needed me for something important.”