Page 42 of Born for Starlight

One shot, the old woman had said.

Don’t fucking blow it, Grainger.

Whatever I did, I had to make sure it never landed on Angelica.

The problem was that it already had her name on it. It had been addressed to her from the start. All I'd done was follow the trail, same as usual. Stop the bad guys. That was the job. Now there was Angelica, and they had plans for her. And I only had one shot.

One shot.

I looked down at her, and she was radiant.

That smile. That goddamn beautiful smile.

Chapter Fourteen

By nine o'clock I had officially clocked out.

The cake had been cut and James had gotten his slice first, by decree of the bride. The toasts had been toasted and Ford's best man speech had made Adam turn three shades of red. The caterers had my number for emergencies, of which there were none. The barn glowed with string lights I'd fought two vendors over, and every table I'd mapped out on a seating chart three weeks ago was full of people laughing at the right volume.

The production was over. Now it was just a party, and a party didn't need a coordinator.

So, I let myself just enjoy. I danced with my brothers. I danced with Matthew twice, once fast, once slow, and the slow one did things to my breathing I decided not to examine on a dance floor in front of the entire town. I ate cake standing up next to Little Grandma, who watched Matthew across the barn the whole time with an expression I couldn't read, which was unusual, because I thought I could read everyone.

Then the band leader tapped the mic and asked for the floor to clear, because the bride had requested one more dance.

Not with her husband. They'd had theirs, and it had been lovely, and half the barn had swayed along. This was different. Zoe walked out to the middle of the empty floor, and she held her hand out to Drake.

"Oh no," I heard Trenda whisper somewhere behind me, already going for a tissue.

The music started, something old and slow, and Drake danced with his baby sister. He was more of a dancer than I would have thought, and I figured that was his wife’s doing. He led Zoe around the dance floor, and it was beautiful. His jaw was set the way it had been on the aisle. She was talking to him, too quiet to hear, and whatever she said made him shake his head once and pull her closer. The whole barn stood around the edges of the floor and watched a man who had raised six sisters dance with the second-to-the-last one to be married.

Their parents weren't there. Everyone in that barn knew where their parents were, and nobody thought about them for one second, because the man in the middle of the floor had been more than both of them put together since he was barely more than a kid himself.

The song wound down. Zoe kissed his cheek.

And Drake Avery stopped, and looked around the dance floor, then opened his arms.

He didn't call them. He didn't have to. Chloe got there first, then Maddie, then Evie and Trenda and Piper from three different directions. Then it was seven of them in the middle of the dance floor, one big man with his arms trying to reach around six sisters, all of them laughing and crying at the same time. The whole town on its feet applauding a family that had no business turning out this beautiful and had done so anyway.

My throat closed.

I turned my head into Matthew's chest and stayed there.

He didn't ask. God love him, he didn’t ask. His hand came up and cradled the back of my head, careful of the pins, and he held me right there in the middle of a cheering barn while I fell apart quietly against his tie, and I couldn't have explained it to him, and he didn't ask me to. That was the thing about this man. He never asked me to explain what I was feeling. He just absorbed it.

He drove me home with the windows cracked, the night air wafting through and the engine humming. Neither of us needed the stereo system.

I watched his hands on the wheel and his profile against the passing dark, and by the time he pulled up in front of my place, I’d made a decision. Or admitted to one I'd made a cinnamon bite ago.

"Come in," I whispered.

He looked at me for a moment. "Okay."

Inside, I kicked off the towering shoes and lost four inches and most of my remaining dignity with a groan. "Drink? I have wine, whiskey, and something Renzo left here that could strip an engine."

"Water's good."

"Water it is. It’s been a big night, soldier." But I got him his water and poured myself a very small glass of wine, and sat down on the couch with my feet tucked up under me like I was alone, or with Zoe or Kit. Matthew took note of it, and I took note of him taking note. The corner of his mouth tilted up, like an actual smile would have killed him.