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“Why wouldn’t I?”

Wolfe laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “’Cause everyone calls him a rocket scientist and pisses him off. Good to see you again, Stone, especially off duty.”

Stone had met Wolfe over the summer, had the unfortunate task of arresting him once, and admitted he’d always liked the guy. With his serpent tat, badass attitude, and tenderness toward Genevieve, he was someone he could definitely hang with at the billiards room. “Good to see you out of a jail cell,” he hit back, which gained him a hearty catcall all around.

The groom himself leaned in. “How’s it going with Arilyn?” Slade asked curiously. “She’s the most mysterious out of the group, you know. I’m glad she got rid of that Yoga Dude. Kate hated him.”

His lips twitched. Something told him this group of men was just as bad at gossiping as the women. Another thing he liked about them. Stone enjoyed dishing the dirt. “Well, it’s been a strange ride. Anger management classes aren’t the ideal way to build a relationship. But after we decided we weren’t mortal enemies, we figured we’d try dating.”

Slade grinned. “Cool. She comes off real chill, but inside she’s tougher than nails. She ever make you do hot yoga?”

Stone shuddered at the thought. “Hell, no. Even I have my limits.”

“It was insane. Cranked the temps to over one hundred degrees and then drilled my ass like an army sergeant. I didn’t think I’d survive.”

Nate lifted a brow. “Hot yoga, huh? Now, that could be interesting.”

Slade shook his head. “Not. My body cut out on me, and I got embarrassed in front of Kate. That shit’s hard-core.”

“Bet sex after that type of workout would be off the charts,” Nate murmured thoughtfully.

They all fell silent. Huh. Stone never thought of it like that.

“Gotta keep Kennedy on her toes, huh?” Wolfe commented. “Maybe she’d finally agree to marry you if you exhaust her.”

Nate looked calm and resolute. “She’ll say yes. Just a matter of time. I already calculated the odds of how many times she can reject me, so my projections tell me within the next three hundred days I’ll secure a yes.”

“Or I can just throw her ass in jail until she agreed,” Stone suggested.

The guys laughed. “Welcome to the club, dude,” Slade said. “It’s a bit crazy here, but we take care of our own.”

Wolfe nodded. “Damn straight. And them, of course.”

They watched as their women swung their hands up in the air off beat, tipsily stamping around the dance floor while Kate’s veil whipped around the crowd. And for a little while, Stone realized how badly he wanted to be part of this group of men who knew how to joke and gossip, and loved their women without question or apology.

ARILYN DANCED HER ASS off, making a good-natured fool of herself as the crowd clapped around the bride in happy abandon. After a solid set of oldies but goodies, they limped off the dance floor to recover with cosmos and a quick summary of events.

“Wasn’t the ceremony amazing?”

“I’m so glad you picked the goat cheese salad to offer. It was delicious.”

“Did you see the way Slade teared up at the ceremony? I swear I almost lost it.”

“I thought I was having a heart attack when the little button thing busted off your train, but no one’s noticed.”

“I’m not taking you to the damn bathroom again, let Arilyn do it next time. Seeing your white ass is not on my bucket list; that’s Slade’s.”

Arilyn rolled her eyes at Kennedy’s last statement, and her friend went strolling off to find Nate. She turned to go get Stone but caught sight of the group of females weaving their way across the floor toward her and Kate.

“Oh my God, Kate, you’re married!”

Gen’s older sister Alexa threw herself over, her inky corkscrew curls bobbing as she hugged Kate tight. She was flanked by her best friend, Maggie Ryan, looking elegant in a floor-length, figure-hugging red dress. Maggie shook her cinnamon hair at Alexa’s emotion. She was a famous male underwear photographer, and Arilyn always found her dramatic ways and quick wit a blast to be around. “They were already living together, dude,” Maggie drawled. “You’re acting like they’re having sex for the first time.”

The third woman, a curvy, petite brunette with laughing dark eyes, waved her hand in the air. Carina was Maggie’s sister-in-law. “Maggie, stop shocking these poor girls. Wedding-night sex is more exciting than any other. Well, not for me, since I was forced to marry Max and was pissed, but later it was the best.”

Arilyn leaned forward, hoping to get the full story, but Alexa was talking. “Puh-leeze. I had no wedding-night sex. Just a poker game that got out of control.” She grinned cheekily. “But Nick and I made up for it later.”

Maggie let out a breath. “Am I the only one who had great wedding-night sex? Damn. And Michael and I were faking a marriage the whole time. Who would’ve known?”

Kate’s blue eyes were wide. Arilyn cleared her throat. “Umm, guys, think you can give us the background on this? You all seem so perfect and happy.”

The three women laughed. “Oh, we are!” Alexa said. “But it didn’t start off that way for any of us. Anyway, we came to say this is an amazing wedding and we’re so happy for you, honey. Thanks for inviting us.”

Kate sniffed. “I love you. Gen’s been like a sister to me, and you’re my family.”

That made Alexa’s blue eyes fill up, and then she was hugging Kate and Gen and crying. Arilyn felt her own throat tighten. Weddings were such a harvest of emotions.

A masculine voice rang out over the music. “Ah, here we go. My wife will always be the one to lead the charge of happy tears.” Alexa’s husband, Nick, decked out in a designer charcoal suit, winked at his wife and slipped an arm around her waist. The naked adoration on his face made her want to sigh.

Nick’s sister, Maggie, gave him a friendly poke. “Coming from Mr. Sappy himself. Ever since you had those gorgeous girls, you’ve gone soft.”

Arilyn looked up as the elegant Italian man strode over and leaned in to whisper something in Maggie’s ear. Maggie’s cheeks turned red, which made Carina giggle. “Who’s the softie?” Carina teased. “Your hubby owns you, babe. Admit it.”

“Never. I just let him think so,” Maggie said.

Michael nuzzled his wife’s neck and winked. His Italian accent curled like rich smoke and caressed her ears. “Ah, cara, don’t make me prove to you who’s the real boss in the household. We’ll be up all night again.”

Maggie grinned wickedly. “Promises, promises.”

The third man, a tall, elegant James Bond look-alike—Pierce Brosnan, of course—took his place next to Carina. He was deadly sexy, with thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes. The protective way he tucked her by his side told Arilyn they were just as crazy about each other as the other couples were. “Why do we always talk about sex when we’re together?” he commented drily, his hand stroking his wife’s belly. “What happened to interesting topics like business, politics, and cuisine?”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Says you, who can’t keep your hands off Carina. When is baby number two due, Max?”

Carina patted her small belly, which was just beginning to show. “Spring. Baby Max is just as excited as Daddy to get a little brother or sister.” Her brows drew together in a frown. “I have to finish my collection before chaos lets loose again. My show is on Valentine’s Day, so you all must come. We’ll go to dinner and celebrate afterward.”

“I don’t want you stressed-out like last time,” Max said firmly. “I’ll cut back on my work hours so you have more time to paint.”

Carina was a well-known artist who brought erotic art to a whole new generation. Arilyn was amazed at the power couples before them. How did they manage? They had huge careers, thriving businesses, children, and were still madly in love?