he wasn’t nervous but impatient. “But why not? It’ll be the last time I sing as a single man.”
The other man belted out three of their hits over the next twenty minutes, with Noah on guitar, David tapping out a rhythm using a pair of sticks he’d left nearby, and Abe on the keyboard he kept at David’s place for the times they jammed here.
Gabriel took over photographing duties for the duration, though when Fox called for him to join in on the chorus, he proved to have a voice that wasn’t totally untrained. “Church choir,” he admitted with a wince between songs. “My mum made all four of us join. At least until we turned thirteen.”
Abe, Fox, Noah, and David grinned before launching into another song—because the event that had sealed the friendship between the four of them had involved a choir tryout.
As the session wound down, Fox looked even more pumped if that was possible. “I’m going to get married!” he yelled in his gritty voice.
They all roared their approval before setting down their instruments to check one another’s clothes. Then, once ties had been straightened and cuffs nicely aligned, Fox’s boutonniere—that’s what it was called—neatly in place, they walked out to get into two separate cars.
Fox roared off first in his red Lamborghini, with Noah in the passenger seat. Abe followed in his grunty black SUV, David in back and Gabriel in the passenger seat. David would ride home with Thea after the wedding, Noah with Kit, while Gabriel’s rental was already parked at Molly and Fox’s.
“You staying at a hotel tonight?” Abe asked, aware the visiting couple had been staying with the lead singer and Molly since the day Charlotte pulled off her plan to surprise Molly.
Gabriel stretched out his legs in the passenger seat, at home in the big SUV that was the same size as his rental vehicle. Given that the ex-rugby player was Abe’s size, a smaller car would’ve simply never worked.
“No,” the other man said. “We’re spending the night at the house.”
Abe blinked while David was more vocal in his surprise. “I don’t think Fox is into foursomes.”
Chuckling, Gabriel looked over his shoulder at the drummer. “Molly doesn’t know, but Charlotte and I arranged for the newlyweds to spend a few days at a romantic mountain cabin. I checked with Fox before we did it—he’s all for kidnapping his Miss Molly right after the reception.”
Abe’s brain took note: there was a certain woman he’d love to kidnap for a sensual getaway.
“I’ve got romantic plans of my own,” Gabriel added with a scowl, “so don’t hang around too long post-wedding.”
David snorted. “This is a rock wedding, Bishop. The party might end at dawn.”
Abe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel; he couldn’t wait to party the night away with Sarah. No way in hell was he letting some other man try to pick her up. Abe would be the only one doing any seducing, putting in motion his plan to win back his wife.
He wasn’t going to fuck up. Not this time.
CHAPTER 12
SARAH STOOD WITH CHARLOTTE, Kit, and Thea behind Molly, bubbles of happiness popping effervescently in her bloodstream.
Facing Molly stood a handsome older man with light brown skin and salt-and-pepper hair: Vicente Rivera. David’s father.
From what Abe had told Sarah that day in her kitchen, Molly’s own father had been a useless excuse for a man before his death, but she’d become very close to the Riveras in the time she’d been with Fox. No surprise when her sister, Thea, was marrying their oldest son. The publicist, too, adored her future in-laws.
From the way Vicente pressed his lips to Molly’s forehead, his big hands on her upper arms, the affection was deeply mutual. His golden-brown eyes glowed as he drew back. “With three strapping boys, I never thought I’d get to walk a daughter down the aisle.” Wetness in those eyes, which he’d bequeathed to all his sons. “And what a beautiful daughter.”
Molly threw her arms around him, squeezing him tight as his own arms came around her, the black fabric of his suit jacket dark against the lace of Molly’s gown. “Thank you,” she whispered, emotion thick in her voice.
“It is my honor.” Vicente kissed her forehead again, then lowered her netting veil and held out his arm.
Taking a shaky breath, Molly curved her fingers gently around his forearm. Vicente put his other hand over hers, squeezed.
The wedding march began to play, picked out on the piano by David’s youngest brother.
Molly turned