A tiny head peeked from the vestibule into the church nave. Catching her uncle’s gaze, Leah waved at Adler. He waved back as Siobhan swooped in and carried the toddler away.

Adler glanced at his watch. They had the church as long as they needed it and they technically were only running ten minutes behind schedule. But he was eager to slip the other half of the wedding set on Sage’s finger and begin the rest of their lives together.

A whoosh of green cartwheeled once through the vestibule, Leah demonstrating to someone how she’d learned to do a cartwheel earlier in the week. Once again, Siobhan materialized to rein in her charge.

“What do you mean it’s not a field office?” Sutton asked, leaning on a cane as he talked with Emerson.

Adler turned to the conversation in time to catch Emerson rolling his eyes. As the “babies” of the clan, the twins had a way of poking at one another. This time it was Sutton’s turn, the fact that he was recovering from a leg broken in so many places he could no longer serve in the military giving him a temporary free pass to be a persistent thorn in Emerson’s side.

“I thought you were supposed to be in charge of a field office by now,” Sutton pressed, his cane lifting long enough to tap at his twin’s dress shoe.

“Am I thirty yet?” Emerson shot back.

“That would be a neat trick if you were, baby brother. So what are you?”

“Supervisory agent in charge,” Emerson growled.

“But you’re back home, more or less?”

“Until I’m thirty,” Emerson agreed. “Then I’ll be at a field office as the special agent in charge.”

“That your date?” Sutton asked, tilting the top of his cane toward a curvy redhead in a light beige skirt suit.

Adler laughed. With as many times as Sutton had looked over his shoulder at the icy beauty, he figured she was the entire point behind him riling Emerson up.

“Please, she’s my subordinate. Just transferred in from Boston.”

“She sitting with you?”

“Don’t we have better things to talk about? I only brought her to triage any calls that come in during the ceremony. Why do you even care?”

“Because he’s both a groomsman and an usher,” Adler pointed out. Seeing all the interest dancing in Sutton’s gaze, Adler nodded at him. “Pop her in next to Boone and Claire.”

Adjusting his grip on the cane, Sutton elbowed his twin.

“What’s her name?”

“Madigan Armstrong,” Emerson answered.

Sutton’s smile got a little brighter, his gaze a little lighter.

“You call her Maddy?” he asked.

A growl vibrated through Emerson’s reply. “No. I call her Agent Armstrong.”

Chuckling, Sutton started what was, for him, a slow, arduous walk to the back of the church.

“He should be off his feet,” Emerson muttered.

Adler cocked his head at the youngest of his brothers. “You annoyed because your subordinate is going to be wrapping her hand around Sutton’s arm in a minute?”

A thoroughly disgusted look washed over Emerson’s face.

“Please, I’ll leave the marrying to the rest of you. It will be years before I’m one place long enough to pick out a wife.”

“Pick her out? Like on the internet or in a Walmart or something?”

Not waiting for Emerson to turn a deeper shade of red, Adler stepped into the aisle and intersected his mother.

“Mama, why are you barefoot and, more importantly, where’s my bride?”

“Five minutes,” she said, then repeated it again, more loudly, her fingers held up and her gaze on the church pianist. “Five minutes.”

“Where are your shoes? Don’t tell me Leah hid them.”

“No, no.” She patted at his chest, her cheeks flushed and shiny. “Maureen broke a heel. We were trying to glue it, but it wouldn’t hold. I had her put my shoes on. It would be bad luck for her to trip at your wedding.”

Emerson snickered. “Not that I don’t adore my cousin, but she trips all the time. If that’s some kind of rule, Sage better find another bridesmaid fast.”

Leaning in close to her youngest son, Lindy planted a hand on her hip and whispered. “She does not trip all the time.”

“So how’d she break a heel?” Adler teased.

Lindy huffed, her cheeks growing redder, the color expanding all the way down to her collar.

“She tripped,” Lindy muttered.

Grabbing Emerson by the forearm, she gave him a hard tug. “Walk me to my seat and stop smirking. Your cousin is a wonderful person and a perfectly competent walker.”

“You!” she said, jabbing a finger in Adler’s direction, “Get in position.”

With one last glance at his watch, Adler drew a deep breath and headed over to the right side of the altar where Walker waited as his best man.

Looking down the aisle, he saw Maureen perfectly poised as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Sutton. Behind her, serving as maid of honor, Siobhan threaded her arm through Barrett’s.

Bringing up the rear, Leah waited with a surprising patience, her hands wrapped around a basket filled with white and pale pink rose petals.

Sage remained out of sight.

Adler’s eyes ached to see his bride.

Every molecule of him ached to see her.

As if the pianist sensed his urgency, music began to play.

Adler’s eyes misted with pride as Sutton escorted Maureen down the aisle. Less than a month had passed since his last surgery. He was likely facing another surgery in six months after his leg healed up some more. The doctors didn’t think he would be able to walk on crutches, let alone a cane, so soon. But Adler knew his baby brother was tough.

All of his brothers were tough.

Barrett and Siobhan remained in the doorway until Sutton and Maureen cleared the first pew, then they began their own march down the aisle.

That left Leah. Starting forward with a bashful grin, the toddler scooped up a fistful of petals and strewed them on the ground in front of her. And then the woman Adler’s entire being yearned toward swept into view, her arm threaded through her brother’s.

In some remote corner of his mind, he felt Walker squeeze his shoulder in congratulations, heard the excited clap of Leah as she saw her father and aunt begin their procession up to the altar.

Each time Sage’s foot landed another step forward, Adler’s heart squeezed out another beat. If she stopped, or turned around, he would die. But she didn’t. She walked resolutely toward him, a smile half obscured by her veil.

With a wink, Jake passed Sage to Adler.

As they said their vows, they inched closer to one another. The skirt of her gown pushed at him, its hem brushing the top of his shoes. Her arms, shaking as hard as her voice, glanced softly against his.

“I do,” he said, following the pastor’s prompt.

“I do,” Sage repeated after Adler.

He could hear her crying behind her veil, little sniffles escaping the material’s confines. He lifted the lace, exposing her green gaze awash with tears, her lips trembling but spread in a wide smile.

He cupped her face.

She curled her hands around his wrist.

She tilted her head up.

He tilted his down.

Their lips met and the church went quiet.

Slowly, they untangled, a cheer rising up from the crowd.

Walker gave him a brotherly slap on the back before leaning close and whispering in his ear.

“Time to cut the cake and dance a time or two so you can start the honeymoon!”