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Chapter One
Mac
“You’re tapping your leg again.” Sebastian’s lowered voice drizzled through my veins like warm honey.
It helped my nerves, but didn’t exactly cool me down.
“Where is she?”
“She just texted.” Em held her phone up. “She’s running a little late, but she’ll be here any minute.”
“I still don’t see why we had to hire a wedding planner,” Sebastian grumbled.
“She’s doing a lot for us,” I said, hoping to diffuse this before their stress matched mine.
“I had it perfectly—”
Em pressed her finger to Bash’s full lips and softly shushed him. “You were running yourself ragged trying to do and be everything. It’s okay to take a backseat.”
“Not to my own wedding.” He folded his arms over his chest and sat back with a huff.
The tall, plush chairs in the trendy café totally undermined his haughty reaction. Instead of slumping back, or doing anything remotely dramatic, he just kind of squished against the chair slowly.
“Our wedding,” I muttered.
I was doing my best to keep my head in this game when my head wanted to be in another game. When we proposed and made these wedding plans, we didn’t know my team would make it to the final series.
Game six was days away, and we needed to win in order to tie up the series. I had so much riding on this. It was my first year with the Evergreens and I had spent too much time injured.
No one had addressed my potential renewal or, God forbid, trade, so I knew it was all coming down to whether we got the cup.
Em slipped her hand into mine, smoothing the tension in my fingers. She grabbed Bash and tugged us closer until our joined hands were in a heap on her lap.
“We all want this to be perfect. And it will be.”
My chest relaxed. My nerves unfurled. She was right. No matter what happened, the most important parts of the wedding were sitting here at this table.
It might have taken me a little too long to admit my feelings for Sebastian Bardot, but with Em? With her, it was instant. The moment I saw Emily Avery, I knew she was the one. In this dim-lit café, with her curly hair frizzy from the drizzly early summer day, her blue eyes searching mine for reassurance and her hand clutching mine to the hand of the man I loved, I was thankful our paths crossed.
If Em thought she needed to coddle the two of us, we were doing a horrible job of being her fiancés.
I brushed her curls out of her face and traced her lips with my thumb. “With the two of you by my side, this wedding will be perfect, no matter what.”
Even Bash melted a little at that, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb as his eyebrows relaxed.
“Here. This will distract us.” Em disassembled our hand pile and pulled out a three-inch binder Bash had nicknamed Big Daddy.
The tome had every idea the three of us could come up with as we daydreamed and conjured our special day. Loose papers were jammed in between dividers, and notes were scribbled in the margins. A physical manifestation of everything we wanted.
Em slammed him down on the table and I could have sworn I heard him groan. We probably should have upgraded him to at least a four-inch binder. Poor guy.
But with practice time looming over me and an uneasy twist in my stomach, I wasn’t sure Big Daddy could even get my head in the game. I meant it when I said all I needed was the two of them. All the planning was driving me crazy.
I wanted simple, but a big wedding was important to Bardot and I enjoyed seeing him happy. Plus, Emily was thriving with all the planning. We had a shared Pinterest board and everything. My phone was constantly pinging with notifications from her, and I loved it.
At the stadium, I would hear Bash’s phone beep at the same time as mine and we’d share a secret smile, knowing our girl was just as excited to marry us as we were to marry her.
I would have married them the second after we proposed. My feelings hadn’t changed. I could stand up in front of the patrons of this trendy coffee shop—Roast—and profess my love for these two in a wedding ceremony that would be more than enough for me.
