One month later

The day Devon Wilder and Olivia Maplethorpe got married, it threatened rain. It was October and the clouds hovered low and ominous, glaring down at the gazebo set up behind the house, though never quite tipping over to unleash the storm. I said it was poetic, because the weather matched Devon’s moody intensity. Ben said they needed to hurry up and get hitched before we all got soaked.

There was no best man, no maid of honor. Devon and Olivia had dispensed with all of that; they’d invited only their closest friends, and said we were all the best man, or the maid of honor, or whatever we wanted. There were six of us guests: Cavan and Dani, Max and Gwen, and me and Ben. Aside from the gazebo, there were six chairs set up behind the house in Diablo. When the wedding was over, we’d go inside, have a toast and some food, and then we would all go home. Not overly romantic, maybe, for a billionaire. But not pretentious, either. Devon loved Olivia; she wanted a wedding; so he gave her one. It was romantic in its own way.

“I think it’s nice,” Gwen said, sitting next to me as we waited for the ceremony to start. “Considering Max and I got married at City Hall, and Cavan and Dani did a Vegas quickie, this counts as an event wedding in my book.”

“Devon is still mad at me,” Max said from her other side. “He was hoping you and I would do the big show.”

“Too bad,” Gwen said, patting his knee. “It was time to get married quick. I want a baby, no waiting.”

“Working on it,” Max said.

On my other side, Ben took my hand and squeezed it. We hadn’t told anyone about the baby yet; it was too early. Everyone said not to tell anyone until I was three months along at least. And since we hadn’t done this before, we were following the advice.

There were a lot of things we hadn’t done before. Like prepare for a baby. Like figure out my diet and my doctor’s visits. Like deal with my occasional morning sickness and my frequent desire to nap. Like do all of this while trying to organize a life together.

One thing we’d figured out: we couldn’t work together, be together, and have a baby together, all at once. The lines were too blurred. So I had a new job with Real Heroes, Max and Gwen’s charity for veterans with PTSD. I was the office manager, appointment keeper, and overall general organizer. I loved it—the work was meaningful, and Max and Gwen were fun to work for.

As for Ben, he had a new assistant: a nice young man named David. Competent, highly qualified, and male. I’d hired him myself.

“Good God,” Cavan said, sitting in the seat on the other side of Ben, Dani beside him. He was wearing a suit with a light overcoat over it, like the other men. Dani was wearing a pretty black and white dress, with a short coat over it. We were all wearing coats for the cold and the possible rain. Cavan rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s the wedding day. I’m still recovering from the bachelor party.”

“You can’t hold your liquor, Wilder,” Max growled.

“Not really,” Cavan agreed. “I spent ten years with bikers, but apparently compared to a Marine, I’m a lightweight.” He gave Ben a quick glare. “That’s the last time anyone asks you to be in charge of a bachelor party. We thought it would be tame. Didn’t you almost die a month ago?”

A smile crooked the corner of Ben’s mouth. He’d thrown the party at a local bar, and he hadn’t crawled into bed with me until almost four a.m., smelling of booze and happily falling asleep. “I’ve known Devon since he was eighteen, and I’ve never seen him drunk,” he said. “It was worth it.”

“What kind of drunk is he?” I asked, curious.

“Awesome,” Cavan supplied.

“Talkative,” Max added.

“He told stories,” Ben explained. “Most of them from the days when he was a getaway driver. Apparently he was the best getaway driver in California. All I can say is holy shit.”

“Were there strippers?” Gwen asked darkly. Stripping was her former job. “There better not have been strippers.”

“No strippers,” Cavan said. “Scout’s honor. Just four drunk-ass guys.”

“What I want to know,” Max said, “is whether there were any strippers at the bachelorette party.”

We three women glanced at each other. I shrugged. Dani looked away. Gwen said, “No comment.”

“Ugh.” Cavan scrubbed his hands over his eyes. “I’m already hung over. I don’t need that mental picture.”

“That is very fucking unfair,” Max said. “Talk about a double standard.”

“I don’t care,” Gwen shot back at him. “The only stripper allowed near you is me. But I wanted to see my sister embarrassed with a naked man in her face. To quote Ben, it was worth it.”

Ben was staring at me. I stared straight ahead, my cheeks heating. Gwen was playing it up, but it wasn’t that big a thing; the stripper had shown up, gyrated around for a bit, and then left. Gwen wasn’t drinking because she was trying to get pregnant, and I hadn’t had anything to drink either. I’d said it was in solidarity with Gwen, and the other two had believed me and joined in. So we’d all been dead sober when the naked guy showed up. To be honest, the whole thing made me realize why women only did this when they were drunk.

“Was she embarrassed?” Ben asked, still staring at me.

“Oh, God yes,” Gwen answered him. “I thought she would die. My strait-laced big sister. She could barely look straight at it. I told her not to act so prissy, since she obviously looks at Devon’s.”

“It wasn’t even all that big,” Dani commented.

“Stop right there,” Cavan said. “Just stop. The mental picture is like torture.”

Gwen sighed. “Fine.”

Ben leaned in, his mouth close to my ear. “I want details later,” he said softly.

“Go away,” I told him, my cheeks still hot.

“You’re very cute when you blush,” he said, and kissed me lightly beneath my ear before sitting up again.

Oh, great. Now I was thinking of what we’d done this morning, then again while we were getting ready. Ben was mostly healed now, and pregnancy… pregnancy was doing something to my hormones. Something crazy and very, very fun. Luckily I had a man who was more than happy to accommodate all the things my body suddenly wanted to do. It turns out that if he’s determined, a man can give you an orgasm with his tongue while you’re propped against the bathroom counter. Twice.

And why not? It wasn’t like he could get me more pregnant. That was his logic, anyway.

Turns out, I liked Ben’s logic.

“Okay, be quiet,” Max said. “They’re starting.”

In the gazebo, a man had stepped up: the man hired to officiate the wedding. Next to him came a woman carrying a violin, which she played in a sweet, beautiful solo as Devon came out, gorgeous in his suit, and finally Olivia arrived, wearing a knee-length cream-colored dress that looked sensational on her, her dark curls tied up. Her eyes never left Devon, and his never left hers. By the time she took his hand, the music stopped, and the ceremony started, Gwen was already crying and I was fighting back tears.

By the time they said “I do,” Dani was dabbing at her eyes and I was dashing a tear from my cheek. And when it was over, and Devon kissed her—sweetly, beautifully, passionately—and the violinist started again, I was taking heaping breaths, trying to keep control.

All six of us stood up and clapped and cheered. I looked at Ben and saw that he was already looking at me, his gray-blue eyes intent and serious. I knew that look. It meant that Ben Hanratty had something on his sharp, amazing mind.

“What?” I said.

“You and me,” he said, still clapping for Devon and Olivia. “Soon.”

I sniffed and turned back to face the front. “Dream on,” I said, my heart racing.

But next to me, he just laughed. “You can’t resist me,” he said. “You’ll see.”

* * *

We all adjourned to the house, where there was a table of food and bottles of champagne. I waved off the champagne: I’m driving. Gwen isn’t drinking. I wondered how long I’d have to keep this secret, the one I was terrified of yet was becoming more exciting every day. I was going to be a mother. Ben was going to be a father. It felt like the biggest thing in the world.

It was Cavan who stood up with a glass of champagne in his hand. “Okay,” he said, “I’ve been nominated to do the speech. So here goes.”

We all went quiet.

“First,” Cavan said, “Thank you Devon and Olivia for having a wedding for all of us.” There was a soft ripple of laughter. Devon was sitting in one of the living room chairs, and Olivia sat on his knee, her arm around his shoulders. He’d taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie, and she had kicked off her high heels.

Cavan also slipped off his suit jacket before continuing, which I watched appreciatively. Ben leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Stop ogling my clients.”

I couldn’t resist baiting him. “He’s yummy,” I said.

Ben sighed. “I’m sequestering you in the house from now on.” I tried not to laugh as Cavan spoke again.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m not very eloquent, but here goes. The only thing I have to say is that when you fall in love with someone, something amazing happens.” He glanced at Dani, and that electricity sparked through the air between them. He turned back to the rest of us. “It’s this thing you don’t realize,” he said. “It happens fast, or it happens slow, but it takes a while to figure it out. What happens is that the other person saves your life.”

I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes.

“It might be in a big way,” Cavan said, “or it might be in a lot of small ways. They might do it just by existing, by being near you. But you open your eyes one day and realize that person saved your life. That you wouldn’t be anywhere near the person you’re supposed to be without them. And you panic, because you owe that person more than you can ever repay. But it’s okay, because without knowing it, you’ve saved theirs.” He lifted his glass. “So thank you Olivia, for saving my brother’s life. And thank you Devon, for saving Olivia’s.”

“I’m crying again,” Gwen said. She was. Max rubbed her back.

Olivia was crying, too. She stood up and hugged Cavan, hard. Then she walked back to Devon, leaned in, and kissed him.

It was the best wedding I’d ever seen.

* * *

“Do you think it’s true?” I asked Ben hours later, when we were lying in his bed. I was on my back, staring at the ceiling. Ben lay next to me. He was naked, though we hadn’t made love yet. Ben slept naked every night—which was fine with me, because Ben naked was my favorite thing to look at.

“What?” he asked, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at me.

“What Cavan said. About love.”

He stroked my belly softly through my shirt, his palm warm and gentle. I practically purred. I loved when he did that.

“What do you think?” he asked instead of answering.

I ran my fingers along the scar on his chest. “Well, you did save my life,” I said. “Literally. But I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

He was quiet for a moment, still stroking my belly. “You saved mine,” he said, his voice soft. “That much I know. You, and now this baby. I thought I was alone before you. I thought it was over.”

“Stop it,” I said as my throat tried to close.

“You asked.” He shook his head. “Jesus, I haven’t even said it yet, have I? I love you, Charlotte. I have almost from the first.”

I put my hand over his. “I love you,” I told him. “I don’t know what’s coming, but I know I can make it work if I have you. That’s how much I love you.”

“Good,” he said. He moved over me, his beautiful body braced over mine, and kissed me as he tugged at my panties. “Let’s see if I can save you one more time.”

* * *