The pastor descended the steps, standing in the aisle. “Mr. and Mrs. Maddox ask that you join them at the restaurant Sails for dinner and the reception. I speak for them when I say thank you for being present on this most special day.”

With his hands, he let us know we were free to go, and then Jim stood, prompting everyone else to stand as well. The men stood around with their hands in their pockets while the women gathered their purses and attended to their smeared mascara.

The brothers relaxed, taking the few steps to the front row.

I held up my phone to Thomas and Liis. “Say cheese!”

Thomas stood behind Liis, enveloping her in his arms, and kissed her cheek.

I snapped the picture and then flipped my phone around to show them the result. “Perfect.”

Thomas hugged her to his chest. “She is.”

“Aw, cute,” I said.

Someone tapped on my shoulder.

When I saw it was Taylor, I hugged him, feeling the stiff fabric of his tuxedo beneath my fingers. “Are you hot?” I asked.

“Baking.”

“Well, you look intolerably sexy,” I said quietly.

His eyes burned when they met mine. “Yeah?”

“There is something to be said about not having all this beauty outside. Makes it easier to stay inside.”

Taylor pulled me against him. “I’m flexible. There’s a perfectly good beach over there.”

Jim clapped his hands and rubbed them together, reminding us other people were around.

But no one was paying attention to our quiet flirtation. Instead, people seemed to notice the palpable tension between Thomas and Liis, and Trenton and Camille.

“Grab your ladies, boys,” Jim said. “I’m starved. Let’s eat.”

Walking hand in hand with Liis, Thomas followed his father, Trenton, and Camille.

“What is all that about?” I asked Taylor.

“Oh, Liis and Camille?”

I nodded.

Ellison leaned in. “They both dated Thomas. It’s going to be awkward for a while, but it’ll get better.”

“Well, you’ve both kissed the same guy,” Tyler said.

Ellison playfully punched him, but the contact still made a thud.

Tyler held his stomach, startled. “Oh!”

Taylor cackled and then interlaced his fingers in mine, and together, we strolled to Sails, the restaurant parallel to our building. The patio was on the opposite side, and the twins sat at one of the empty tables marked Reserved for the reception.

Seconds after we sat down, a server approached to take our drink orders.

“Whiskey,” Taylor said. “Neat.”

“We have a nice Irish Jameson Eighteen.”

“Sounds good,” he said. He was smiling, but his tone and the skin around his eyes told a different story.

The server looked to me.

“Just a water, please.”

“Yes, ma’am. Flat or sparkling?”

“Sparkling,” I said. At least that would feel a little more like I was celebrating with everyone else.