“Someone has to protect the family …”
Jaydon snorted and crossed his arms. “Brey’s never tainted our name and she never will. If anything, she’s lowering her standards by marrying Jax. He doesn’t deserve her.”
Jax shoved him. “Fuck you.”
“What? You know damn well you don’t deserve her.”
“Look,” I reasoned with them both. “You’re married, it’s all fine. In the future, if everyone folds under the pressure, the divorce will be—”
“Jesus,” Jax sighed as if he was tired. “You deserve to get your ass beat.”
“Are you kidding me, Jax? I’m trying to make every angle clear.” I rubbed the five-o’clock shadow that had spurted one or two gray hairs over the course of last year.
Jaydon’s gaze ping-ponged between us, and then he pointedly placed himself between Jax and me. “Come on, you two. We don’t need black eyes tonight.”
“You’re lucky I love my wife and don’t want to cause a scene,” Jax said.
“No, you’re lucky. You forget who taught you to fight?” I glared at him over Jaydon’s black-suited shoulder.
The muscle in Jax’s jaw worked as his ice-blue eyes shot anger my way.
I deserved a beatdown. He was right.
Running my family’s investment company was taking its toll on me. I was taking my stress out on them, on this wedding. I didn’t have time to vacation in Kauai, even for something as important as my brother tying the knot.
I straightened my tie and adjusted my suit jacket. “Look, Dad’s not been present at work lately. He’s spending more time with Mom. Trying to make things work.” I resisted the urge to state another point in the case of why the institution of marriage wasn’t a smart move. My parents were a perfect example of consistent compromise, of my father not getting to do what he loved. “He can’t work and make Mom happy, which means more work is falling on my team. We have a lot of clients that need my attention.”
Jax stopped me. “I don’t give a fuck about a job. I work there too, remember?”
Jax worked on algorithms. Not deals, not major companies under our name folding, not managing the work of thousands. The weight of people’s families having dinner on their table each night sat on my back. That work didn’t stop because of a wedding.
He continued on, “You’re a groomsman. Start acting like you care.”
I ground my teeth together as I once again held on to the words I wanted to say.
Jaydon tried to play peacemaker again. “This is supposed to be bonding time between brothers.”
I sighed and nodded my head. “Jaydon’s right.” I patted his shoulder as we both stared at Jax. “Sorry for bringing it up. I just want what’s best.”
Jaydon turned toward me and let my hand slide from his shoulder. “You didn’t let me finish, Jett,” he growled, his glare even meaner than Jax’s. “It’s bonding time, so let’s not talk about my best friend like she’s not worth a damn or I’ll help Jax hide your fucking body, you prick.”
I rolled my eyes and turned toward the bar. “Guess I’d better drink the whiskey down and shut the fuck up. Seems you two aren’t into seeing reason anytime soon.”
They turned away from me and the bar to walk off, leaving me with the toothy bartender.
"What can I get you?" he asked.
The bridesmaid I’d walked down the aisle with literally skipped up beside me. "Can you get him a strawberry daiquiri? One for me too, please."
Spunky, full of life, and exasperatingly happy, Vick didn’t appeal to me. Nor did her taste in drinks, but the bartender spun around to make them anyway.
I pushed the heel of my hand to my temple to ward off the migraine I knew would come from irritation. "You can take both of them. I don't want strawberry anything today."
"They're great, I promise. It's the best drink to have in hot weather like this. You'll see." Her smile didn't reach her eyes as she tried her best to keep a cheerful face.
The girl was pretty. She had long blonde hair that swung with its own weight when she walked and a tall enough frame that she could pass as a model. The black dress she wore accentuated her curves, small waist and substantial chest. With high cheekbones and full, pink lips, her face had perfect symmetry.
Her personality was the problem. The fucking prancing around needed to end here. “Where’s Brey? Shouldn’t you be getting her a strawberry drink?”