ignored Ian’s mention of his own wedding. Partially because it was hardly the time, but also because that day was seeming a long way off lately.
Kennedy was trying like hell not to get depressed by that fact.
“I was terrified at mine,” Matt said from where he sat backward on a chair, his casual posture completely at odds with his groomsman tux.
“We know,” Kennedy said. “You barfed on your tie. I gave you mine.”
Matt saluted him with his bottle of water. “Thanks for that. Don’t know that Sabrina would have loved me wearing one from the hotel gift shop. Though What Happens in Vegas would have been great in the photos, right?”
“I’m not going to puke.” Ian stopped pacing long enough to pull a curtain aside and look out the window. “I don’t think.”
Kennedy batted his hand away. “Knock it off. You’re not supposed to see the bride.”
“She’s not out there.” Ian glanced at the guys. “Is she? I thought the girls were getting ready in the master bedroom upstairs.”
“They are, but she’s got to come down at some point to get in place for the processional.”
“Processional?” Ian looked at Kennedy.
“Or, you know, whatever. The march.”
“Dude, don’t call it a march,” Matt said, crumpling up his bottle and tossing it in the trash. “Ian, you’ve got to breathe through your nose. Kennedy’s going to be mad if he has to give you his bow tie.”
“Not really,” Kennedy said. “I brought a spare. Big thanks to Lara for letting us wear standard black bow ties instead of having to wear pink, or lavender, or whatever color dresses the bridesmaids are wearing.”
“Champagne,” Ian said, tugging at his collar. “The dress color is apparently champagne.”
Kennedy actually knew that. He’d seen it hanging in Kate’s bedroom earlier that week. Though at the time he’d been so damn relieved that she was letting him in, he hadn’t given two shits about the dress.
“Breathe,” Matt said again. “In less than an hour the hard part will be over, and you’ll get a drink, probably some sort of bacon-wrapped scallop deal, and you’ll get to kiss your girl every time someone clinks on a glass, which will be a lot.”
“I want to kiss her now.”
“Yeah, well, then you should have eloped instead of having a big fancy wedding in the Hamptons,” Kennedy countered.
Though, truth be told, it was shaping up to be a damn good wedding. The house they’d rented as their “bridal-party headquarters” was spacious and air-conditioned. The hotel where the guests were staying was walking distance from the beach where the ceremony would take place. And though Kate had insisted they rent a tent in case of rain, there was nothing but blue skies and sunshine.
Kennedy was happy for his friends. Elated. And if he were a tad jealous, he’d deal with that later.
There was a quick knock at the door, and the wedding planner, a pretty, smiley blonde named Brooke, stuck her head in. “You guys ready?”
Ian stepped toward her, his gaze slightly manic. “Is Lara ready? Have you seen her? How is she?”
Brooke smiled, unperturbed by his rapid-fire interrogation. “She’s ready and eager to become Mrs. Bradley.”
Just like that, Ian’s shoulders relaxed, and his face broke into its usual easy smile. “All right, then. Let’s do this.”
Kennedy wouldn’t admit it to a soul, but he liked weddings. Liked them even more when he was able to stand beside his best friend, offering his support on the most important day of Ian’s life thus far.
Liked them best of all when the woman who had completely consumed his every thought for the past few months was coming down the aisle toward him.
It wasn’t his wedding. Kennedy knew that, obviously. But for one heart-stopping moment when Kate appeared and began her walk down the aisle, he imagined an entirely different situation—her walking toward him, not as a bridesmaid walking in the general direction of where the groomsmen stood but Kate walking toward Kennedy, bride to groom.
She looked beautiful. The dress was a shimmering light-bronze color, strapless and fitted up top, full and flowing down to her knees. Her hair was back in a simple knot that suited her small features perfectly, and when her eyes lifted to his just for a moment, Kennedy’s breath caught.
Mine. She was his.
Kate took her place on the opposite side of the pastor, turning toward the aisle and smiling at Sabrina, who was following behind her in a matching dress. Kennedy shifted just slightly back so he could keep Kate in his