After I left the women, I’d gone back to the guys’ room, drank all the liquor that hadn’t spilled from the little bottles, and lamely told my brother everything was okay and my flip out had nothing to do with him or Andi.

An hour of uncomfortable discussion about how great marriage was later, I stood next to my brother, who was fidgeting impatiently, waiting for this thing to get started.

Lane was right—today wasn’t about me. Occasionally being able to forget that was one of my less admirable talents. I’d been alone so long, I needed a kick in the head. A strong reminder the world didn’t revolve around me, and other people’s needs were, in fact, more important sometimes.

So I vowed not to misbehave anymore and to focus on being the best best man I could for my brother.

“Please tell me you didn’t forget the ring,” Hayden whispered out of the side of his mouth.

I tapped my pocket until I felt the curve of metal, assuring both of us I hadn’t fucked up something else. “Got you covered, bro.”

Andi had wanted a small wedding, and that’s what this was. She’d been raised by her grandmother who’d passed away, and the only family she had were her closest friends. So the small group of gawkers didn’t exactly follow the seating rule about making guests decide if they liked the bride or the groom more.

Sara, Rob, and Hillary sat on Andi’s side. Since I’d spent most of my life wishing I had no family, I pretended not to see Renee and Anna in the seats right in front of where Hay and I stood. Every once in a while, I heard Renee sniffle, as if she were already overcome with emotion. As if she had emotions. My guess—she was overwhelmed with shock that two people were getting married for the right reasons.

Eric was walking around with a camera stuck to his face, capturing who knew what—how bored we all were waiting for Andi to come out maybe?

Clare was rushing up and down the aisle, kicking up sand and holding a tablet that, to my knowledge, was only for show. There were only five people in the wedding party—my brother, Andi, Emilia, Lane, and me. And I was pretty sure we all already knew what we were supposed to do.

Stand there. Smile. Keep the groom from fainting, and make sure the best man doesn’t make any inappropriate comments. Clare would’ve been better off bringing a roll of duct tape.

At about twenty minutes before sunset on this tropical island, the only one who wasn’t sweating was the man who would be performing the ceremony standing beneath an arch of flowers. Not only had he been through more marriages than all of us combined—even when my mother was included in the scenario—the officiant was local and used to the heat.

Finally, Clare nodded to the solo violinist Hayden had flown in from somewhere off island. Since the musician was male, under seventy-five, and only here for today, he couldn’t have been any more perfect for my stepsister. When she saw him, I thought I actually heard Anna’s completely-unsuitable-for-a-relationship alarm go off. When the guy went home, he’d have a wallet full of cash, a smile on his face, and a hell of a story to tell.

Truthfully, the man was worth every penny and sexual favor he might get. I’ve never been a classical music kind of guy, but I knew when something was done right. Somehow, each note carried over the rhythmic sound of the waves and the ripple of wind through the palm trees, as if the entire island had decided to accompany him.

I heard another sniffle, but didn’t look. Mostly because, at that moment, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen came out from behind the wicker panel at the far end of the aisle. Hot damn. Lane’s smile was like sunlight, her dark eyes shining like the ocean at night.

Yep, at that moment, I understood. I could finally make sense of all those poets I used to make fun of.

Lane ducked her head shyly, lifting the side of her dress and flicking it out until it caught the breeze. She reached into the little basket she was carrying and grabbed a handful of pink petals, tossing them onto the sand as she walked.

Emilia came out next, wearing a similar dress but nowhere near as well. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful woman, but…

Nah, nobody had ever looked as good as Lane did. When my girl reached the archway and sat in the seat next to Hillary, I grumbled, unable to see her through my brother’s head.

Emilia took her spot across from me just as the violinist paused. Poking her head out of the bamboo screen, Clare made eye contact with the musician. She nodded to him and ducked back behind the screen as he began playing the old-school wedding song. Then another beat came on, coming from speakers set up just behind the violinist. The new, synthesized music worked with the notes of the violin, not overpowering them.

I knew I wasn’t imagining it when the people sitting down started looking around to find out where the music was coming from. It fit the couple perfectly.

Hayden was a traditionalist, always had been. Andi brought a bit of unpredictability to his life, along with more fun and excitement than I’d thought he could handle. They’d never tried to change each other, all the positive strides they’d made had happened just by having someone who loved them at every step along the way.

Andi stepped out and stood at the end of the aisle while Clare fluffed out the back of her dress. There was no big tail-thing on it that would drag on the ground behind her, but it seemed like dress fluffing was a tradition.

When Clare whispered “Okay,” Andi started walking. By herself. Without a father or uncle to give her away, she’d chosen to walk alone. And it made perfect sense. She was coming into this screwball family of her own volition, and Hayden wasn’t the only Bennett who loved her.

When I looked toward where Lane was seated, I noticed my brother—the reason I was there. His eyes were cartoonishly large, his hands fisted at his sides.

“Hayden,” I whispered. “Breathe.” Then I remembered something I’d promised Andi to make sure wouldn’t happen. “Don’t lock your knees, bro. I’m not sure I’m up to catching you.” Damn, I thought she’d been joking.

“Breathe,” he mouthed, pulling in air through his teeth. “Right.”

“Nice breathing, man. Keep it up.” I patted him on his shoulder and then kept my hand up, an inch or so from his back, just in case. “Remember to keep your knees unlocked. You’re doing great.”

“Great.” He drew the word out as he slowly exhaled. When he smiled, I wondered if he’d maybe gotten too much oxygen. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful, Carson?”

I let out a sigh of relief. “She’s gorgeous, Hay.” Almost as beautiful a bride as my Lane would be someday. “You’re a lucky guy.”

He nodded slowly and, if I looked at him for more than a second, I might’ve sworn I saw water in his eyes. But the breeze was picking up, so some sand had probably blown into his eyes.

“I never thought I’d be here, Carson. Not feeling like this. I never thought I could feel like this.”

“As long as you don’t feel like you’re going to faint, it’s all good, bro.”

After Andi handed her bouquet to Emilia and her dress had been fluffed out again, she took the last few steps that brought her to Hayden.

“Hello, Mr. Bennett,” she whispered, smiling. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

He laughed quietly as he took her hands. “Nothing in the world would keep me from making you mine. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”

Good answer. But I glanced down at his legs anyway—his knees might’ve had other ideas, and it was my job to keep him standing.