Truth & Tenderness (27 page)

He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and contemplated sneaking into the house to find Griffin.

“Don’t even think about it!” Daisy drifted by, a clipboard under her arm. Behind her stomped a cheerful Katie in a white halter dress and wellies with little blue whales on them. She was in charge of Sadie, who was also not in her wedding attire for dirt and wrinkling concerns.

“I’m on the same schedule as the toddler,” he muttered as the little girl waved.

“Hi, Dim!” No matter how much they tried, the nickname stuck.

Jim enthusiastically waved back, because despite his nerves, he had fatherhood to prepare for.

The sound of a small motorcade arriving pulled Jim off the stairs. He ducked through the trees and bushes lining the side of the house until he came out into the driveway.

The rest of the wedding party had arrived.

M
ATT
STEPPED
out of the rented van, blinking in the bright August sun until he slid on his sunglasses. A nice guy named Arthur was their driver, and he had regaled them with stories about the area on the ride over from the hotel.

Matt had best-man duties covered. Right now, it was entertaining Jim out of his funk and putting him in his tux. In about two hours, it would be handing over a ring so Jim and Griffin could do the married thing. After that? He was going to dance the night away with Evan.

While looking fine in a tux.

He whistled a little as he grabbed his bag from the back; Arthur was still telling local history as he handed over Matt’s suit bag. Evan joined them a second later, and Matt couldn’t resist stealing a kiss.

“What is it with you two?” Miranda asked, suddenly appearing at Matt’s elbow. “You’re, like, all… kissy.”

“Well, Miranda, when two people are in love, they have these urges and…,” Matt said slowly, delighting in the face she made at him. “Wait, just ask Kent—I’m sure he can explain it. With his
mouth
.”

Kent had started walking toward them, but at Matt’s words, he spun and disappeared around the front of the van.

“You are cut off,” Evan pointed out, picking up his bag, then following in Kent’s footsteps.

“It’s two in the afternoon—I haven’t had anything to drink yet!”

“T
HANK
G
OD
”
was all Jim said when they walked around the side of the house. The Cerelli girls were dressed in white like Katie, casual and pretty. The guys were in tuxes, something that caused grumbling from everyone with a penis.

Including Jim.

“Black-and-white outdoor wedding—why do the girls get to be more comfortable?” Jim muttered as a passing Drake nephew shoved a carton of orange juice into his hand. Daisy was running Griffin’s nieces and nephews like the overseer of Santa’s village.

“You want to wear a white dress?” Daisy kept walking by every time he complained. He started to grow concerned that she had him bugged.

Matt put his arm around Jim’s shoulders and directed him toward the back door. “Let’s get you ready, young man.”

J
IM
WAS
in the guest room, fussing with his tie in the mirror. Matt, on the other hand, was doing James Bond moves in the full-length mirror by the closet.

“Seriously? You’re supposed to be the adult in charge here,” Jim pointed out. He smoothed his hands over his head lest a single tiny hair had decided to move out of formation.

“Well, that was the first mistake made.” Matt spun one last time, then did finger guns in Jim’s direction. “Hey, you’re pretty good-looking. I’d sleep with you.”

“Please, say that louder. I want to be thrown out the second-floor window into the pool.” Jim checked his cuff links, the crease on his midnight tux. He and Griffin had an agreement that the jacket only had to stay on until they finished pictures and toasts.

“I’m just saying what everyone is thinking,” Matt said slowly. He offered his arm, a charming smile on his face. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Jim wanted to be married right the hell now.

M
ATT
STOOD
next to Jim under the arch of white roses and lilies. A beaming Richard Drake walked Griffin down the aisle, which pretty much broke every Drake child, spouse, and grandchild into tears. Those who managed to hold it together took one look at Jim’s expression and joined in the sniffling.

Reverend Potter, the nice man who had baptized Sadie, had made the drive out to Dutchess County. He said lovely things about Jim and Griffin, about their feelings and journey to this moment. Matt found Evan sitting two rows back, surrounded by the kids, and they shared a little secret smile. Matt winked, then turned his attention to their friends.

“By the power vested in me,” Reverend Potter said, and suddenly Matt’s own emotions veered out of control. The words coming next meant something, something powerful and particular. Both Jim and Griffin had grown up never imagining this day, let alone a legal marriage license waiting for their signatures, and Matt’s and Daisy’s.

He felt humbled to be standing there.

J
IM
AND
Matt relaxed in side-by-side deck chairs while everyone under the age of thirty filled the dance floor to do some sort of mass group dance with lots of cha-chaing and butt shaking.

Griffin stood in the midst of a gaggle of sisters, nieces, nephews, the Cerelli children, Mimi—as promised, looking fabulous in a slinky black dress—and Terry Oh. Jim tried not to find it adorable and failed terribly. Taking video from the side were Ben and Liddy, who were narrating the wedding for Nick and Heather back in Seattle. The Heterosexual Power Cabal had gotten their wish today.

Jim was a happily married man.

“Your face is so gross,” Matt deadpanned.

“Shut up.” Jim raised his bottle of beer and clinked it against Matt’s.

“Your husband is ridiculously cute, you know that, right?”

“No, I missed that. I’m just in it for the sex.” Jim sighed before taking a sip of his beer. “And tax benefits.”

A very pregnant Farrah Drake waved from across the way, tottering across the lawn; she was on her third piece of cake, claiming Jim’s offspring had a sweet tooth. Only the fear of Farrah’s temper kept Jim in his chair and not offering his arm so she could navigate the plush lawn and patio brick. Apparently he had a tendency to hover over their surrogate/his sister-in-law, who was currently incubating their baby, and this annoyed her.

He’d been reprimanded more than once.

“So that must be weird,” Matt whispered, hiding behind his bottle, probably in case Farrah read lips.

“Having my sperm inside my husband’s sister? No, it’s entirely normal and doesn’t freak me out at all.”

Matt whistled lightly. “I’m glad I got my kids when they were potty trained.”

“Now you’re just bragging.”

Jim leaned his head back and watched the dance floor. The group dance was over, but Griffin still bounced among the teens to toddlers swirling around him. His hair product had lost its battle with the humidity hours ago, and Griffin had acquiesced to Jim’s request that he wear his glasses.

“Kinky bastard,” Griffin had said, delighted.

“Your lovesick face makes me feel things,” Matt sighed.

“I was actually making your face when you look at your boyfriend. Did I get it right? Did you feel a slight twinge of nausea as if you’ve smelled sewage?”

Matt let out a cackle, attracting the attention of everyone currently not attempting to do the Time Warp on the dance floor.

“So when are you taking the plunge?” Jim asked, curious because while he could think of no two people more “married” than Evan and Matt, he wondered when he’d be whipping the tux out for their nuptials.

But Matt shrugged. “Eh. This isn’t our scene—not that it isn’t wonderful, and I love wearing these tight shoes, but I feel like our plunger plunged a long time ago.”

Jim took another sip of beer. “Not even a courthouse wedding?”

“Too flashy.”

“Flashy? Good Lord. I tried for that and Griffin death glared me.”

“Like I said,” Matt said softly. “Not our scene.

Jim followed his gaze to where it rested—of course—on Evan, who was dancing with his youngest daughter on the edge of the dance floor. There was a look of lightness and joy on his face as he gave her a twirl, and Jim could barely find the tense, terse man he had met those years ago.

And no darkness in his friend Matt—none at all.

“Well, whatever your scene is, I hope you guys will be on hand for parenting questions as they come up.”

“You have Evan’s cell number. Once you get your little one up to year eight, give me a holler.”

“Maaatt! Come dance with me,” Katie shrieked as she ran by, clearly the victim of free-flowing champagne and being over twenty-one.

“Oh Jesus.” Matt scrambled out of the chair, catching Katie before she could end up in the pool. Jim watched them tango onto the dance floor, and then an impromptu dance competition between the dads and their daughters broke out. Things got interesting when Griffin’s fleet of brothers-in-law joined in with their girls. Then Griffin grabbed Richard away from his girlfriend’s side and Jim thought his face might split in two from the smile that bloomed.

In a few years that would be Jim and Griffin with their little girl, and the thought made Jim the happiest man there—despite stiff competition.

“H
OW
LONG
before the baby’s here?” Evan asked as he and Griffin waited for the bartender to return with more bottled water. They were both jacketless and sweating, more from dancing as the sun had finally set.

“Five weeks.” Griffin laughed before making a strangled face. “I’m so freaked out. Like excited, but holy crap.”

“That sounds about right,” Evan said dryly. “Skipping the honeymoon—you sure that’s a good idea? Chances are you won’t get this chance again for a while.”

“Eh, we did Hawaii for a year and probably hit every beautiful beach while we were traveling. Now we just want to stay home and enjoy our lives.” Every time someone asked them the same question, Griffin felt utter peace with his answer.

They’d both been running for such a long time. This was their time to stop and be.

“Plus, we have a built-in babysitter,” Griffin added.

Daisy had bought the house next door—literally—and she and Sadie were already moved in. Bennett was still around, dutifully attempting to rebuild things with his wife. He lived in the city but had recently purchased a smaller house a few miles away, his way of proving he was serious about getting back together.

“I was surprised to see him here, actually.”

Griffin made a face. “Yeah. I had this whole speech about no way José plotted out, but Jim said Daisy’s sad face outweighed my logic.” He stole a tiny pink umbrella from the bartender’s prep area. “I think that’s an insult.”

“You think she’s going to take him back?”

“She already has. She just hasn’t told him that.”

Evan chuckled. “Let him suffer a bit more?”

“God, yes. I’m glad, though—it proves she still has a spine.”

The bartender returned with a case of water, then gave each of them two. They had thirsty dance partners to share with.

“So Daisy and Bennett are patching it up, me and Jim are old married dudes, Shane and Helena are still in the ass-grabbing honeymoon phase, which—bless. What about you?”

Evan squinted at Griffin. They dodged the tables and various clumps of chairs where people had created their own little huddles. “What about me?”

“Oh come on, Evan. When are you guys making it permanent?”

“About three years ago.” Evan laughed at the face Griffin made. “What?”

“You’re never going to do it?”

“What? Ass-grab in public? Probably not.”

Griffin put the wet bottle to his forehead, pretending to swoon. “Did you just say ass?”

“Yes. That’s your wedding present.”

At the edge of the dance floor, they waited; the kids were all dancing, flailing their arms and spinning as the DJ flashed lights and set bubbles loose. There was barely any open space—the dancing even spilled out onto the grass for those who felt more secure out of arm’s reach of the younger set.

“Thank you,” Evan said suddenly, catching Griffin’s attention.

“For what?”

“When I met you, I was struggling with a lot of things. You were very kind to me when you didn’t have to be, and I… I appreciate it.”

Griffin made another face—one where he was trying not to get sappy emotional, because he was sure he was over the quota for today. “That’s a very touching thing to say when we were actually talking about sex,” he said, his sniffles ruining the playful tone.

“Sex is important to a relationship,” Evan deadpanned. “If you need any advice in that department….”

Griffin leaned his head on Evan’s shoulder, feeling stupidly sentimental even as he laughed. “You’re a good guy, Evan Cerelli, and I’m glad you’re my friend.”