May the Best Man Win by Mira Lyn Kelly
Jase’s smile retreated, his face turning serious as he watched her take another step. “I do.”
“Because you’re willing to risk laying yourself bare, giving me everything you have”—another step and she was almost there—“on the chance we might work out?”
“For as long as it takes, Em. You’re worth it, and, sweetheart, I know I can make you happy.”
And then she was finally in front of him, close enough that she had to tip her head back to see those storm-tossed blues staring back at her.
“You’re worth the risk, Jase.” Pressing her hand over the center of his chest, she uncurled her toes from the diving board and jumped. “Because I love you too.”
One beat. Two beats. Three beats of his heart beneath her palm and then Jase’s breath punched out on a curse as he reached for her, pulling her into that perfect fit, so good and right and strong it brought tears to her eyes. His arms were wrapped around her tight, his mouth next to her ear as he whispered her name again and again.
And then he was holding her face in his big hands, searching it like he couldn’t believe she was real.
“Jesus, tell me you really want this, Em. That you’re sure.”
“Kiss me, Jase. Please.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest, and his mouth met hers in a hard press that neither of them was in any hurry to relinquish.
Because it was right.
He kissed her again and again, each tasting like a promise or claim, until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began. Until her hands were in his hair, her lips bruised as she pleaded for more. For him to hold her tighter, kiss her harder.
Until they were pulling at each other’s clothes, and then swearing and laughing as they pulled them back on. Because they were still in Sally and Romeo’s apartment. And friends didn’t have hot, plaster-cracking, finding-their-forever sex at friends’ apartments. It just wasn’t cool.
But it didn’t matter, because then they were on their way back to Jase’s place.
He had one arm around her shoulder and was holding her hand while they walked and talked and laughed and stopped to kiss…and finally ran the last two blocks…
Because forever started now.
Epilogue
May
On the upside, Max had scored ringside seats for the latest in a string of buddies lining up to get their bachelor-cards punched…and he’d done it without having to sweat out the actual best man responsibilities. Nice. Even better, after today’s nuptials, he only had one more wedding to suit up for this summer.
Hells to the yeah, man.
’Course before he could check out, he had to make it through both big days without his grooms losing their shit completely. And glancing across to the man seated in the center of the small hotel conference room where the guys were set up, the theme song to Rocky playing in the background, that was looking like a tall order for groom number one.
Jase Foster, his formerly cool and collected, badass bachelor comrade, was wound as tightly as any groom Max had ever had the misfortune of managing. Hell, he’d been off the chain even before the limo business. And so much for Brody’s assertion that giving in to Jase’s “I-can-still-make-it-on-time-if-I-run” plan would help the guy burn off some steam.
What’s the harm, right?
“You think she’s going to notice?” Jase gasped, still catching his breath after his sprint from the scene of the flat on North LaSalle Street to the hotel.
From where Max was standing, out of the way by the door, the answer was a resounding “Hell yeah, she is going to notice.”
The swollen split lip was unquestionably the main attraction, but there’d be no missing the mostly severed jacket sleeve, the pronounced limp, or the seriously bad case of the sweats. Damn, man.
Fortunately, the duty of BSing Jase into thinking otherwise rested on other shoulders. So Max kicked back and let the best man talk his kid down from the ledge.
Crouched in front of Jase’s chair, Joe Foster let out a low whistle and shook his head. “Oh yeah, Jase. She’s going to notice. There’s no hiding all this. It’s bad. Ugly.”
Max coughed into his hand, while from the other side of the room, Sean cut him a delighted look, the corner of his mouth starting to twitch.
Fuckin’ Sean.
“I still don’t know what you were doing getting right up behind the driver while he was trying to change the flat, but that elbow”—another whistle—“and then with the running. And Christ, Jase, sliding over the hood of a moving cab only works in the movies. What were you thinking?”
So it looked like Jase wasn’t the only one with a case of the nerves.
Amateurs.
Clearly, Sean was happy to settle in and watch the shit show in action, but since Jase looked about one more wedding-day mishap from his own WE tv Groomzilla special, Max pushed off the wall and walked over. Clapping Joe on the shoulder, he got in on the huddle.
“Forget the split lip,” he said, using his cop voice to make sure Jase was listening. “You got here on time.”
Jase sat back in his chair, relaxing the slightest degree.
“I couldn’t be late, man.”
“I know.” Because the dipshit had shared all the truths about the delays of grooms past, which meant the guy was coming undone over making sure he was on time. Because no way was he going to let Emily worry one single minute about whether he’d been getting cold feet or having second thoughts.
Sweet, Max guessed.
Emily was a good girl, so the less she had to worry about, the better. But Max was willing to bet his left nut there wasn’t a person left in this city who didn’t know how utterly, pathetically in love Jase was or how badly he wanted to make Emily his wife. Like, yesterday.
“So you’re here, and when Emily sees you, she’s going to know you did this for her.”
Sean chimed in, “It’ll be like an extra wedding gift. Dude, she’ll love it.”
Jesus, Jase was worse off than Max had thought, because he actually looked like he might be buying this.
“Buddy, you hit your head going over that cab?”
It hadn’t looked like that from inside the limo when they’d passed him with a quarter block to go and some Yellow Cab decided to take a right after Jase had already committed.
Leaning in, Max palmed Jase’s head for a better look.
The door opened behind them and Max glanced back to see Brody backing into the room, his arms out in front of him like he was trying to ward off an assailant.
“Now, Brody.”
Or a determined bride.
“Hey, Emily,” Max greeted her, satisfied that Jase’s brainpan was still intact.
Sean was out of his seat in a flash, adjusting his tie and flashing that polished smile. “You look unbelievable.”
She did. She had on one of those strapless dresses that was fitted up top and then flowed down to the floor, and her hair was pinned up in a bunch of soft-looking coils with some kind of pearly clip thing holding it in place.
She really was a knockout.
“You got hit by a car?” she charged, ignoring Sean’s compulsive manners completely.
Arm out to the side, one finger held up in warning, she strode past the other groomsmen.
“I told you, don’t freak out about the timing thing, Jase. I wasn’t worried about anything other than you getting here in one piece.”
With that last bit, she stared down each of them in turn. She had told the groomsmen not to let him out of their sight.
Damn, Jase had always said a scary side lurked beneath all that soft and pretty, but Max just thought the guy was being a pussy. Lesson learned.
Turning back to her future husband, everything about Emily gentled. “Are you hurt?”
Jase was pushing out of his chair, closing the distance b
She was looking up into Jase’s eyes, giving him that smile that said how much she loved the guy—and for an instant Max remembered what it had been like to have a woman looking at him that way. Like somehow he was her next breath.
Turned out he hadn’t been. Another lesson learned, and no question, that one ranked top ten in a lifetime of them.
“Clear out, will ya, guys?” Jase said, his eyes still locked with Emily’s. “I need a minute with my almost-wife.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and something in her smile shifted, setting off a quiet alarm in Max’s head.
Uh-oh. “You sure you want us to do that?” he asked, scanning the room around them. Taking particular note of the retractable wall dividers. Those things didn’t look very stable. Or soundproof. “We’re scheduled to start in—”
“Make it ten, guys,” Emily overruled. “I’m a little shaken up.”
Right. Except that she didn’t look shaken up at all. “You heard ’em. Everybody out.”
Joe stopped at the door. “Maybe I should stay? See if there’s anything I can do to help out.”
“You know, I think Jase has got this one,” Max answered, poker face in place. Ushering the elder Foster out, he suggested Joe go check on his own bride-to-be. See if Clara was picking up any ideas for the ceremony they’d be having in two months’ time.
Forty-five minutes later, Jase was unequivocally the happiest man Max had ever seen. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Emily had been grinning ear to ear, a dreamy look in her eyes as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. That pretty clip that had been so neatly tucked into her hair was sitting off-kilter, and her dress was sporting a black smudge on the rear that looked a lot like the one Jase had on his hand from the limo’s lug nut.
There’d been tears in their eyes as they spoke their vows, and even he’d had to fight that misty feeling when the rings were finally exchanged and Jase dipped his wife back into a kiss that nearly blew the roof off the place.
Marriage wasn’t for him. Max knew that.
But hell, days like this one were almost enough to make a guy like him wonder what if.
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Acknowledgments
A huge thanks to the enablers facilitating my continued belief that writing is a team sport.
First and foremost, to my fairy god-agent, Nicole Resciniti, the woman behind my dreams coming true. Also to Cat Clyne, for her patience, insight, and guidance in helping me to get this book where it needed to go, and to Deb Werksman, along with the rest of the amazing team at Sourcebooks, for being as enthusiastic about this series as I was.
To Liz Lewis, for taking the time to share some of her PR know-how with me—and also for being one of the sweetest, funniest, goofiest girls in the Windy City. Wish we lived closer!
To my sanity savers, Lexi Ryan and Megan Mulry, for the chatty brainstorming…and even more for the chatty non-brainstorming. These girls just get it. They get me, and I’d be lost without them.
To my husband, kids, family, and friends, for putting up with the deep-in-the-zone Mira even I can barely tolerate!
And especially to my readers, for making it all worthwhile!
I love you guys!
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly grew up in the Chicago area and earned her degree in fine arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover he’d been living right around the corner from her back home. Having spent her twenties working and playing in the Windy City, she’s now settled with her husband in central Minnesota, where their four beautiful children and one naughty dog provide an excess of action and entertainment. When she isn’t reading, writing, or running to keep up with the kids, she loves watching movies, blabbing with the girls, and cooking with her husband and friends.
Visit Mira at www.miralynkelly.com.
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