Chapter Seven

Alex

“Thank you, Alex.”

Damian’s words came out in a low, sexy growl that sent a delicious set of chills racing along my bare arms. If he ever decided to grow a pair and stop hiding from the world, Damian could be a lady killer. Even with the scars, he was still handsome, and he had that whole military hero thing going for him. My stomach clenched as my fingertips accidentally brushed his hand again. The two of us could definitely have some fun over the next two weeks. Too bad he insisted on shutting himself off from everyone except Walsh.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I warned. “I have another favor to ask.”

He kept his eyes trained on the hung pictures. “What?”

“I realize there isn’t a bridal party, so you’re not the official best man, but of course you are. Melissa and I are about to give our toast. I know it would mean a lot to Walsh and Lake if you would give one, too.”

Damian turned his face even farther away from me. “I can’t,” he whispered.

It was as much as I expected.

“Okay,” I threaded my arm around his, and when he flinched at the touch, I gripped tighter. “But I’m going to force you to sit and listen to our bad jokes and puns about their sex life.” I squeezed his arm. “You ready?”

He nodded, so I led him back into the dining room. Round tables with crisp, white linens filled the new space. My gaze immediately went to all the unfinished details the way they always did when I came in here. Several of the wooden beams and pillars still needed to be stained, and I still needed to decide on window coverings. The tables were rentals since ours weren’t in yet. There was so much to be done before the official opening after the annual Fourth of July parade, but even unfinished, the space was amazing.

I steered him around the edge of the room past dozens of smiling guests. Well, mostly smiling. Emily sat at her table with a permanently raised eyebrow while Jeannie did her best to pull Emily into the conversation with Anthony’s parents. Wait until she saw what Chef Luke had prepared for dinner. I made a mental note to upgrade Jeannie’s thank-you note to a gift basket of wine and chocolate.

Most of the faces were strangers to me, but I knew from the RSVP cards that half the town was here. The guys from the brewery all sat together, enjoying tall glasses of Love Potion, a special ambrosia beer Lake had cooked up just for the night. Harlan and Warner were laughing so hard at something they had tears running down their faces. Might need to cut them off early. As big and beefy as he was, Harlan could probably handle one more. But with his baby face and zero percent body fat, one was probably Warner’s limit.

As soon as we sat down with Melissa and Anthony, servers made their way out of the adjacent kitchen. I pulled my phone out of the bodice of my dress and checked the time. Right on schedule. My mouth watered as a server set a big, juicy hamburger and fries in front of me. I’d eaten at some of the most prestigious restaurants in the world, but I’d been looking forward to this hamburger for the past two months.

Very few people would understand what went into making it, but I did. The pretzel bun was made from spent grain left over from the brewing process and then steamed in beer. The ground beef came from cows fed from additional spent grain that we gave to a local cattle rancher. And the cheese was made in house and blended with several of our most popular beers. This was so much more than a hamburger. It was a testament of everything Naked Brews was working toward.

I glanced over at Lake. She stared at her burger like it was her first-born child. In a way, it kind of was. She caught me staring at her and winked. She nudged Walsh and they both glanced at Damian sitting next to me, quietly eating his food. Lake mouthed the words “Thank you” and picked up her own burger. Totally worth it.

Twenty-five minutes later, my phone vibrated against my chest. Show time.

“Melissa.” I reached over and squeezed her hand. “Time for speeches.”

I grabbed the notecards from my purse and pulled Melissa toward Lake and Walsh’s table. We stood facing the crowd of a few hundred friends and loved ones from Aspenridge who’d shown up to support Lake and Walsh’s marriage. Melissa tapped a knife against her beer glass and the room quieted.

“Hi,” I said, waving at the room in general. “For those who don’t know us, we’re Alex and Melissa, Lake’s best friends. I’m pretty sure she opted out of a bridal party in the hopes to avoid these kinds of speeches, but we’ve decided to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.”

The room laughed, and I sighed in relief. There wasn’t a bridal party, because there was no way Damian would have been able to stand up in front of a crowd of strangers during the wedding. The absence hadn’t gone unnoticed by the guests, so hopefully this would pull a little of the attention away from Damian.

“We’re unbelievably happy for both Lake and Walsh,” Melissa chimed in, picking up where I left off. “The two of you are a beacon of true love, and no one deserves happiness more than you do.”

I turned toward Lake and winked. What were best friends for if not to embarrass you on the most important day of your life? “Of course, we expect a few things to change now that the two of you are officially tying the knot. We want to be accommodating to the new Mr. and Mrs. Brackens, but we have a few new work place rules.”

“Rule number one.” Melissa held up her pointer finger. “No use of adorably, sickeningly sweet pet names at the brewery. Naked Brews is dedicated to the pursuit of yeasty perfection, and we’re almost certain that the use of the name buttercup, sweet cheeks, or honey buns will throw off the cosmic vibe needed to achieve that level of perfection.”

“Got it, sweet cheeks?” Lake asked Walsh.

“No problem, honey buns,” Walsh answered, planting a wet kiss on her lips.

“That takes us to rule number two.” Melissa and I both held up two fingers. “Absolutely no hanky panky in the office.”

This elicited a slew of cheers, especially from the tables seating Naked Brews employees.

“We’ve been pretty lax about this in the past, but that leniency has to come to an end. No one wants to walk into the office and catch a bare ass christening the expense reports.”

“Dear god in heaven, please be the end,” Lake groaned under her breath.

I ignored Lake’s comment and flipped to my next notecard. “You guys are an old, married couple now, so we’re going to need you to keep your dirty deeds in the privacy of your own home like normal people.” I leaned toward Melissa and whispered in her ear, “This one goes for you, too.”

Melissa had the decency to blush. She’d gotten over her embarrassment from the episode a few months ago when a photographer caught her and Anthony in a compromised position on his balcony. Last week, I’d caught the two of them one button away from their own office exposure.

Fanning her face, Melissa cleared her throat and flipped to her last notecard. “And finally, rule number three. We must insist that the two of you continue to find joy in your love for one another and live happily ever after.”

“To Walsh and Lake.” I lifted my glass, and everyone joined us in toasting to their happiness. I sipped my beer and pretended that I believed just like everyone else that a happily ever after was still possible.