* * *
When I knock on Lenny’s old bedroom door, Amelia and Lenny’s best friend, Juliet, filter out, followed by Scarlet, who stops and kisses me on the cheek. “Try not to cry, Maximus.”
And as I step through the door, I appreciate the warning. My little sister is beautiful. We’ve always been called the kings, but she looks like the perfect princess. Her dark-brown hair is piled in curls on top of her head, and diamond stud earrings sparkle in her ears. She’s wearing a pretty, satin, strapless gown with material flowing down beneath a light-lavender ribbon tied under her chest that accentuates her athletic frame. Luckily for me, she’s not wearing a necklace.
“Lenny...” My words betray my emotions, but I refuse to cry. “You look beautiful.”
She showed me a picture of her dress after Scarlet, Amelia, and she picked it out a few weeks ago, and I took a chance and reached out to the jeweler Dad always used and had something made. I pull the deep-red velvet box from my pocket and hold it out to her. “I got you something.”
“Max... you didn’t need to do that. You already gave me this wedding.” She takes the box from my hands and slowly cracks it open, and then she gasps, “Maximus.” Big blue, watery eyes meet mine. “It’s perfect.” With shaky fingers, she holds up the purple diamond surrounded by a halo of tiny white diamonds on a delicate platinum chain. “Will you put it on me?”
I take it from her and move behind her so she can watch us in her mirror. “You’re an incredible woman, Eleanor. Your mom and Dad would have been so proud of the person you’ve become. They both would have been thrilled to know you found someone who loves you the way Bash does.” I kiss the crown of her head. “And if he ever steps out of line, you’ve got a bunch of brothers who will happily kill him for you. Or who’ll bury his body if you do it yourself.”
She turns and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I love you, big brother.” After squeezing me for a minute, she pulls back, vibrating with happiness. “Now let’s do this before Sebastian thinks I ran away.”
“I can still get the car, if you want.” I point toward the door, and she smacks my hand away.
“Not a chance.”
* * *
When I stand at the bar and watch my sister and her friends dance to a Meatloaf song, singing at the top of their lungs, I can’t hold back my smile. I feel content, knowing she’s happy and my job is done. I pull my phone out and text Daphne.
Max:I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to the wedding sooner. I wish you were here.
Max:Can I see you after?
I watch the little dots start and stop a few times before a shadow falls over me. Brandon Dixon stands next to me and motions to get the bartender’s attention. “Can I get a bottle of water and a Jack and coke?”
“Dixon.” I pocket my phone and sip my bourbon, trying to appear calm and not show the irrational rage his presence here is causing me.
“Kingston.” He nods his head and turns around to lean his elbows back against the bar. His eyes are on the dancefloor, watching the girls, including his sister. “You left quickly last night. Did Daphne finally realize she could do better?”
I place my glass down on the bar and turn toward him. “What the fuck’s your problem?”
“My problem is you.” His voice raises slightly. “That girl has been dealt a shit hand the past few months. She doesn’t need someone like you playing with her.” He takes a step closer to me, but I don’t back down.
His size doesn’t intimidate me.
Bigger men than him have tried and failed.
“I’ve met guys like you. You think because you own the world, you own her too. But you don’t.” Dixon’s jaw clenches.
“You don’t know me.” I lower my voice, eerily calm, but there’s no mistaking the threat in my tone. “You don’t know what’s between Daphne and me. My relationship with her is none of your business.”
“But she’s not yours or she wouldn’t be living in my house.” A cocky grin spreads across his face. And I swear to God, if I wasn’t at my sister’s wedding, I’d have already smashed my glass of bourbon against the side of this asshole’s head.
Instead, I throw it right back at him. “I don’t see her sleeping in your bed.”
Having obviously struck the nerve I was aiming for, he takes a step into me, bringing us practically nose to nose.
I lower my voice. “Back. The. Fuck. Up. Now. Because this is my sister’s wedding, I’ll let you save face. But if you ruin this for her, you’ll never play another down of football anywhere. Not professionally. Not semi-pro. You won’t even get to touch a fucking ball in a flag league. I will destroy you.”
Dixon takes a step back, having never seen this side of me but knowing I don’t make idle threats. “You know she deserves better than you, right?”
“She deserves better than both of us.” My own words ring a little too true in my ears, cementing my determination to fix things with Daphne.
Dixon shoves his hands in his pockets. “Then step up and take care of her like she deserves.”