Page 118 of Butter My Biscuit

London pokes her head out and waves at us. She’s wearing tight-as-fuck jeans, boots, and a shirt that shows the perfect amount of stomach.

“She looks like a country star.” My eyes widen.

Remi nods. “My sister is going to be famous! Wait until you hear her songs. Let’s get a drink. Her set starts in ten minutes.”

A stage crew goes out and checks the microphones and tests to make sure the guitars and drums are mic’d properly. It’s a huge room, and sometimes, they get some popular musicians to come in and play, so they’re set up for professional gigs.

Remi leans over the bar. “Two lemon drops,” she says to the bartender, and then she points to Cash. “That guy is paying for our drinks tonight.”

He looks over at Cash, who raises his hand and gives a thumbs-up. Then, we make our way back to the dance floor, where a small crowd is starting to form. I check my phone, knowing Harrison wouldn’t want to miss this, and when I turn around to glance at the entrance, he enters. Alone.

I watch him, waiting for him to find me in the crowd, like he always does. And like magic, our eyes meet, and I smile and wave.

He points at the bar and then gives me a thumbs-up. I smile, then face toward the stage.

Remi notices how my demeanor changes and she bumps my shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I just miss my best friend.A lot,” I admit.

26

HARRISON

Iknew she’d be here, and when I spot her in a room full of people, I know our connection hasn’t been lost. I quickly go over and say hello to Cash. He tells the bartender I’m on his tab, then returns to his conversation. Beckett and Summer are laughing their heads off while Kinsley and Hayden devour each other’s face in the corner. If I had more time, I’d bother the fuck out of them, but not tonight.

I grab my beer and head over to where Haley, Remi, and Grace are standing. When I’m closer, I noticed they’re all dressed the same.

“Triplets.” I shake my head. “It’s cute though.”

“Thanks,” Grace tells me, twirling the straw in her lemon drop.

The last time she drank those, we were in Hawaii, losing control. I try not to think about it.

“Where’s Stephanie?” she asks.

I shrug. “She didn’t feel well. Pretty sure she’s stressed about the wedding.”

“You know a wedding planner,” Grace suggests.

“You’d help?” I ask.

“Why not? I’d love to do whatever I can for y’all. I’ve been getting a lot of contacts lately for Kinsley. Caterers, florists. I’m pretty sure I could plan a wedding in two weeks if I needed to.”

“How did you know?”

She studies me. “Know what?”

“We want to get married in two weeks.”

Stephanie and I discussed it last night. She doesn’t want to wait any longer, and if I’m being honest, I don’t either. The longer we wait, the more I wonder if it’s the right decision, but I’m standing firm. The only person who can stop this wedding now is Grace. Period. And she won’t. So, we continue forward.

The ruby-red smile falters. “I was kidding, Harrison. Two weeks? That’ssoon.”

“Hence why she’s stressed,” I say.

“If she wants my help, have her reach out to me. Right now, I need to build my client list, and it would be a good opportunity.”

I smile wide, pulling out my phone. “You’re sure? I’ll text her right now.”

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