“It was a piece of cake,” someone called out.

“But seriously, we know we asked a lot of you to have you come here, and I’m delighted to see so many friends and family with us. It is an honor to be able to share this moment with all of you.” He stopped talking to lock eyes with Michelle, who was watching his every word with a huge smile on her face. “I could not be happier or more ready to make this amazing woman my wife. Nothing has ever felt more right or true to me than loving her. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do.”

Casey catalogued the reactions at the table to Jack’s speech. Davis beamed with pride and love at his sister, Julia brought her hand to her heart then wiped a tear from her eye and Clay dropped a kiss on her cheek. Casey sneaked a peek at Nate, who was intently listening. He must have felt the pull because he turned to meet her gaze, and the look in his eyes melted her. It was the way he’d looked at her in London, in New Orleans, in her apartment. His gaze zeroed in on her collarbone, that spot he loved to kiss, and instinctually she raised her fingers and touched it. She heard a hitch in his breath, then forced herself to focus as Jack continued.

“I’ve often said I’m the luckiest man in the world to have this woman,” Jack continued, and reached for Michelle. She threaded her fingers through his, and the tender and passionate love between them was evident even in how they held hands. “And yes, there’s some luck to it, and some chance, but there’s also my sister.”

Casey sat up straight, jerking her head from left to right, as if to say Who, me? She hadn’t expected to be part of his speech.

Jack moved away from Michelle and walked closer to Casey. “I wouldn’t be at this dinner, ready to take Michelle Milo as my bride tomorrow, if my sister hadn’t stuck by me, and believed in me, and encouraged me to move on from the things that had held me back. She’s been my anchor and my best friend, and in many ways she is the reason I’m here today. So thank you, Casey, for speaking your mind, never giving up on me, and then administering the kick in the pants I needed to fall in love with Michelle,” he said, bending down to give her a hug, then raising a glass to toast.

Her cheeks flamed red, and huge tears of joy streaked down her cheeks. She brought her hand to her mouth to cover her lips that were quivering. She was a mess. She was a total mess, with mascara surely staining her cheeks. All eyes were on her, as everyone at the wedding toasted.

She couldn’t speak. She simply raised her glass in response, and then felt a hand on her thigh. It wasn’t naughty or suggestive; it was caring, as Nate handed her his napkin. She brought it to her eyes, and dabbed them, and once the focus of the guests returned to the groom, who was now telling a story about adjusting to life in Paris, Nate leaned in to whisper. “Don’t give up on me either.”