“I still don’t see where Chloe’s extended work assignment leads to me helping you plan the next wedding,” he said, purposely redirecting John’s focus. “Why don’t you start over when she gets back, like you’ve done before?” A thought occurred. An out. “And anyway, Chloe won’t want my help. She thinks I’m bossy.” She’d been telling him so since the ninth grade.
“You are a pushy fucker, but there’s no need to worry. Chloe doesn’t know anything about this. I want it to be a surprise.”
Evan choked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? A surprise wedding? Uh, uh, man. That’s an even harder no than before. That is, by far, the worst idea I’ve ever heard.” And that was saying something. He’d been through BUD/S, where ideas were the kind that resulted in him flat on his back in the sand while waves of freezing ocean crashed over him, literally, for hours on end.
“I wouldn’t say it’s the worst idea.” John’s fingers drummed against the tabletop. The guy was practically vibrating. “And besides, you haven’t heard my plan, so you can’t make assumptions until you do.”
Evan cocked a brow. “Exactly how many Red Bulls have you had?”
He’d seen John like this before, too many times to count. Whether it was John’s hyped-up ass over-running his plays in football, or whispering too loudly to Evan during the SAT’s—getting him kicked out so he had to take them again, or shouting a Marine’s oorah at the top of his lungs at Evan’s Naval graduation, John plus energy drinks never ended well for him.
John’s gaze darted to his fingers, and the drumming stopped. “I was up all night working on a new project proposal, but I’m not hyped on sugar. This is excitement. I’m going to marry my high school sweetheart, and I’m asking my best man to help plan my wedding.”
“I see what you did there.” Playing the “best man” card. Evan agreed to be best man more than a year ago—but the sentiment still warmed his chest. John was family. His brother-from-another-mother. Yeah, he was a pain in the ass sometimes, but John had been by Evan’s side through thick and thin. Of course he would stand by John’s side as he and Chloe committed their lives to each other. He’d be damn proud to be there.
And that was when Evan knew there was no way he would say no. Judging by the smug satisfaction gracing the guy’s mug, John knew it, too. The bastard.
Damn it.
Evan sighed, caving to the inevitable. “If the two of you don’t want to wait to get married, drag Chloe’s ass to city hall when she gets home and get it done. You could always plan the pomp and circumstance for later if that’s what Chloe really wants.”
There. Problem solved.
John was already shaking his head. “She loves her job, and she loves me. She feels torn, no matter how understanding and patient I am with her schedule. She was crying, Evan.”
Well, fuck.
“Chloe deserves to have the wedding she wants the first time we take our vows,” John continued. “She doesn’t want an extravagant wedding, but she does want to walk down the aisle in a pretty dress. She wants to carry flowers and eat and dance with me at a reception.”
“You just proved my earlier point. She wants. Dudes don’t grow up dreaming about wedding stuff. Weddings are for the bride. The bride should be the one who makes the decisions.” He and John were bound to fuck something up and ruin Chloe’s perfect day.
“You sound ridiculous right now.”
“Am I wrong? Are you telling me you actually care about flowers and dresses and reception food?”
Evan wouldn’t give a shit about those things. If he ever decided to get married, the only thing he would care about was making the woman his. The flowers would die, the food was just another meal, and the dress would be on the floor as soon as he could manage. What mattered was his lasting commitment to love, honor, cherish, and protect his bride with everything he had. If his hypothetical woman needed a huge production to prove his commitment, he’d already failed her.
“I care because Chloe cares.” John shook his head. “One day, you’ll understand. In the meantime, I need you to do this with me.”
John was forgetting one crucial aspect of Evan’s life—the one that tossed his reliability out the window. Even accepting the offer to be best man was shitty and unfair to John, because Evan couldn’t guarantee his presence at the wedding. He’d already burned leave for the first two busted dates. This time he’d have to play schedule Russian roulette.
“What if I get called away?” His team wasn’t scheduled to leave the states for a long-term deployment any time soon, but that didn’t mean anything. They could be called on at any moment, for any length of time.
John shrugged. “All the more reason not to waste time arguing when you know you’re going to end up saying yes anyway.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Say it,” John encouraged, making Evan laugh. “You know you want to.”
“Fine,” he conceded, not even trying to hide his grumpiness. He didn’t know anything about planning a wedding. “I’ll help you.” Evan waited for John to finish his celebratory fist pumps before he continued. “But if this thing goes sideways, I am not taking the fall. As her future husband, Chloe has to forgive you. Me, on the other hand … I do not need her hating me forever.”
“Got it. If we fuck this up, it’s all on me. Done.”
“Not if, my man. When.” Evan groaned and resisted the urge to drop his face into his hands. He suddenly wished they were in a bar instead of a coffeeshop. He could use a shot of something stronger than espresso. “Two heterosexual dudes planning an entire wedding,” he mused. “This is gonna be the worst event in recorded history.”
“If you believe that, you obviously haven’t spent much
