Only sheer force of will kept Falcon from chewing off both thumbnails by Saturday morning. Oscar had stayed the night of their accidental double date, then left.

Leaving Falcon freaking the fuck out about the wedding.

Even though it was a tiny family affair and he and Blane had planned every detail of their backstory and nothing could possibly go wrong.

Right? Right.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the knock on his door.

The anxiety he’d been stewing in for the past several days flowed away as soon as he saw Blane filling his doorframe and giving him that rare big smile.

And he looked gorgeous—tailored suit and tie. The color was coordinated (by Falcon’s insistent text messages) to match Falcon’s light pink shirt. He also looked like he belonged in this suit, unlike how he usually seemed to get itchy as soon as he wore so much as a button-down shirt.

It occurred to Falcon that maybe he was trying to impress his family.

“Oh, God.” Falcon breathed out and reached out to hug Blane, leaning into his solid weight for a minute and pressing his forehead into his neck.

“Whoa. You look like you’re the one getting married today,” Blane teased, but he was gently rubbing Falcon’s back. “Nervous for your sister? Or are you the best man?”

“Oh, I like my new sister-in-law. And no, they’re not even having that kind of ceremony,” Falcon admitted and pulled back. “I’m just nervous about how all this will go. You meeting my family and stuff. And Spencer,” he quickly added as the pretense of their appearance together suddenly came back to him.

Blane winked. “Right. That doesn’t make me feel nervous at all. I’ll try to impress everyone.”

“Oh, shit. No.” Falcon blushed hard now. “No, I know you will. Just…”

“You’re also coming out.” Blane tapped his shoulder to move him aside, then gingerly picked up the meticulously wrapped artwork.

Falcon watched carefully to be sure Blane knew how to handle it, then snorted. Like anyone didn’t know about him. “I guess.”

“Come on. Let’s get you there to set up. That should help the nerves,” Blane told him.

Falcon relaxed at his tone of voice—confident and supportive, like he knew exactly the right prescription to help. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Blane cast him an affectionate look, but he couldn’t do much with the wrapped, framed artwork in his arms. “Do I get a hello kiss before I try to tackle these stairs with this, my boyfriend-for-today?”

And there it is. Falcon’s heart jumped and his stomach churned at once. Hell, his toes curled into his stupid stiff formal shoes. “I—yeah,” he croaked and leaned in to brush their lips together.

Warm but not exactly intimate, especially since he had to lean in around the corner of the painting.

“Well. I’ll get more passion out of you after the champagne starts,” Blane promised and winked.

The art easily fit into the trunk of Blane’s car, and then they were off toward the venue, Falcon twisting his hands together in his lap.

“Hey.” Blane took his hand and squeezed. “You look handsome today.”

“So do you. Didn’t I say that? You really do,” Falcon smiled, lacing their fingers. “Delectable.”

“Ohhh,” Blane grinned. “Such a big word for me. Really?”

“The word is proportionate to the delectability of… well, all of you as well as parts,” Falcon winked.

Blane laughed richly. “Why, thank you. Did you want to go over the backstory?”

Blane’s attention to detail was adorable. Falcon nodded. “Just what happened in real life.

“But without so much fucking.”

Falcon was startled into a laugh. It was odd for it to be this way around—Blane cheering up Falcon, not Falcon bugging him out of his shell. But it felt nice to be taken care of.

“And we’ve been together…?” Falcon prompted.

“It feels like forever,” Blane finished immediately. “Then I do something adorably sappy.” They’d decided it was best to dance around the question rather than outright lie.

Falcon’s lips quirked into a smile. I think we are, whether or not we’re admitting it. And it does feel like forever already.

“Okay, next right,” Falcon directed as they pulled off the highway to the small winery his sister had chosen to host the wedding and, more importantly, reception—which just meant party.

The parking lot was nearly empty. Probably just Mom, Rosalina, and Jenny, plus a couple of their friends and the event staff.

“Not many people yet,” Falcon told Blane with a bright smile that was much more confident than he felt.

“Leave the gift in the car?”

“They should have the tables set up already. But you can bring it in later.”

“Can I?” Blane teased.

“What’s the point of bringing my big burly boyfriend if he won’t carry my things?” Falcon shook his head.

“Tsch. That lazy bastard trying to get out of work,” Blane shook his head solemnly and leaned toward Falcon as he unbuckled.

Falcon kissed him for a few moments longer this time, relaxing. The feeling of Blane’s cheek under his palm, the scent of him, his very presence filling up the car, made him feel safe. Warm.

“Ready?” Blane asked.

Falcon nodded once. No matter what was going to happen, there was no looking back now.

Hand in hand, they approached the entrance of the canopy set up next to one of the winery buildings.

“Falcon!” Rosalina had an armful of flowers that she nearly dropped at the sight of him—and, presumably, Blane. “Oh my God. Mom! Falcon’s here!”

Jenny appeared, too, and a couple of their friends that Falcon had met before occasionally.

Rosalina looked like she was about to burst, grinning ear to ear. One of her friends, Anna, took the flowers from her.

“Hey,” Falcon greeted them all. He was acutely aware of all the eyes on them, his cheeks hot. “This is Blane.”

“Blane Winters. I’m with him,” Blane supplied with an amused lilt in his voice, since Falcon’s voice had failed before he could do it. “I’ve been told I don’t need an official invite. I hope he was right.” Falcon squeezed his hand in thanks and got a squeeze in return. “Great to meet you all.”

“Hi, Blane. I’m Julia,” his mom said, brushing past his outstretched hand to hug him tightly and kiss his cheek, even though she had to stretch onto tiptoe to do it. “Welcome to our crazy Harper family!”

Rosalina and Jenny did the same and he hugged them back carefully, complimenting Rosalina’s hair.

“Oh, the wedding styling isn’t even done yet! I told them not to touch me before noon. Too much to set up before then!”

“And I said it’s their wedding day and they should be relaxing,” his mom clicked her tongue. “But they won’t listen.”

“I wonder where she gets the control freak tendencies from?” Falcon grinned at her, earning him a light clip on the ear.

“Don’t mind my son,” Mom said to Blane. “He gets such a thrill out of acting out.”

Falcon laughed at how true it was.

“Oh, I won’t. But if it’s all the same, I think I’ll be on my best behavior, ma’am,” Blane saluted, and they all laughed.

That was it, then—as uneventful as could be, exactly how they knew he wanted it. Falcon’s anxiety didn’t vanish, but he certainly had one less worry.

His energy renewed, Falcon shooed Rosalina and Jenny off to prepare for their part in the day. “We’ve got this covered,” he told them firmly.

Falcon couldn’t stop smiling as he threw himself into setting up tables inside and rows of chairs in front of the veiled and vine-covered arbor. He set out flower arrangements while Blane climbed ladders to string up lights inside the tent.

He might have been guarded at work, but Blane chatted freely with his mom and his sister’s friends as they worked, and Falcon loved listening in.

They stopped for a quick lunch break as the catering and event staff arrived to take over the final preparations. Falcon found himself laughing along with the stories Blane was telling about animals misbehaving on the veterinary table.

But his mom wasn’t going to let time slip by, or any of them slack off.

“The guests will be arriving any minute now.”

And that meant another round of introductions—to aunts, grandparents, and family friends—but this time, Falcon had no fear.

How could he, when Blane’s hand fit perfectly in his own, and the day was sunny, and everything… everything… seemed perfect?