the glass, wondered if he was allowed to drink on duty. Amused at himself, he shrugged, took a sip.
He glanced over at the man who turned at the top of the steps and started his way.
“Hey, Carter, how’s it going?”
Jack wore a dark suit with subtle chalk stripes. His dark blond hair curled casually around his face. Eyes, smoky gray and friendly, sparked under brows arched in question. “You in the wedding?”
“No. I’m helping out.”
“Me, too.” He dipped his hands in his pockets, relaxed. Jack Cooke always appeared relaxed to Carter. “So, I’ve got a date in there. Did you happen to get a look at her? Megan. Meg to her pals.”
“Oh, the maid of honor. Yes, she’s in there.”
“Well?” Jack waited a beat. “Give me a gauge. Parker gave me the ‘she’s beautiful’ routine, but Parker had an agenda. I’m in either way, but I might as well get an objective opinion.”
“Very attractive. Brunette.”
“Mood?”
“A little scary, actually. They’re doing something with hair in there now.”
“Great.” Jack blew out a breath. “What we do for friendship and a case of good wine. Well, into the breach.” He knocked. “Foreign chromosome,” he called out.
Parker opened the door. “Perfect timing,” she said and yanked him in.
Carter leaned against the wall beside the door, sipped champagne, and pondered human rituals.
The next time the door opened, Mac pulled him in.
Women sat under protective cloaks while hairdressers plied their trade with implements that always made Carter vaguely uneasy. If hair was straight, here was a strange tool to curl it. If hair was curly, another tool would straighten it.
Why was the question.
But he kept it to himself and held a light meter when he was told to, a length of white lace over a window, a lens. He didn’t mind, even when Jack deserted the field and he was left the lone male among the female army.
He’d never seen Mac work before, and that alone was both education and pleasure. Confident, intent, he thought, with efficiency and fluidity in her movements. She changed angles, cameras, lenses, circling and winding through the women, speaking rarely to those she photographed.
She let them be, he realized. How they were and who they were.
She tapped her headset. “Groom’s heading in. We’re on the move.”
Solidarity wasn’t the theme here, Carter noted, as the best man didn’t arrive with his brother. Mac did her work, in the cold, with her breath wisping vapors.
“Groom’s coming up,” she said into headset. “CBBM among the missing. Got it.” She turned to Carter. “We’ve set a lookout for the asshole. I’m going to go set for the formal gown portraits. Why don’t you find Jack and Del, relax awhile?”
“All right.” He looked around the Parlor at the rows of white draped chairs, the floods of flowers, the groupings of candles. “It’s quite a transformation. Like magic.”
“Yeah, and magic takes sweat. I’ll find you.”
He didn’t doubt that, but wasn’t sure where he should go to be found.
He wandered through the flowers and tulle, the tiny sparkling lights and into the Grand Hall. There, with some relief, he found Jack and Del, sitting at the bar.
“Want a beer?” Del called out.
“No. Thanks. I’m just getting out of the way.”
“Best place for all of us,” Jack agreed. “You hit the nail with Megan.” Jack lifted his bottle of Bass. “There are worse ways to spend a Saturday than comforting a pretty brunette. Canape?”
Carter perused the small tray of food. “Maybe.”
“Del seduced a sampling out of the caterer.”
“There are worse ways to spend a Saturday,” Del agreed. “So, Carter, now that we’re all here, what’s going on with you and my girl?”
“Your—what?”
“You’ve got your eye on my Macadamia. You got anything else on her?”
“Del’s territorial. Have a shrimp ball.”
So was he, Carter realized. “When did she become yours—from your point of view?”
“Since she was about two. Throttle back, Carter. The question’s brotherly.”
“Then you’d better ask her.”
“Discreet.” Del nodded. “That’s a good quality. Hurt her, and I’ll mess you up.”
“Protectiveness. That’s a good quality,” Carter returned.
“Then we’re square. And also busted,” he declared when Emma came in.
“Didn’t I tell you this area is off limits?” In her blue suit, her mass of hair pinned back, she clipped around the tables. “Where did you get that food?”
“Del did it.” Jack threw his friend into the fire without hesitation.
“I’m not having beer bottles and crumbs in here. Get out, and take that with you. Go outside or up to the family wing. I expect this sort of thing from these two,” Emma