26. Luke

Chapter 26

Luke

“You son of a bitch,you did it.” I slap my hand down on Jacob’s back, swaying into him with the movement.

He grins at me, his eyes slightly glazed. “I’m a Mr. now!”

We both giggle. Like children. Then we clink our glasses of whiskey together and take another sip.

“I’m happy for you, man.” I let out a contented sigh. “I know I give you a lot of shit, but you’re a good guy. And she’s lucky to have you.”

“Nah.” Jacob shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one. But feel free to go tell her that anyway.”

I snort and take another drink. “I want her to keep liking me, so I’ll pass.”

Jacob hums as he nods. “She’d probably like you even more if we could go on double dates. So maybe you could go find that girl you’ve been obsessing over and make her fall in love with you.”

“Love is a big ask for one night.” I down the rest of my second drink. “But lust…” I take a step away from Jacob. “Speaking of which.” I reach into the breast pocket of my navy blue suit and pull out a little foil square. “I took your condom.”

His eyes move to my hand and widen. “That’s my wedding night condom!”

“I know.” I widen my eyes back. “You really should have brought more than one.”

“But—”

“Congrats again!” I wave the condom at him, then slip it back into my pocket. “I’m proud of you, man!” I back farther away from the outdoor dance floor.

“Luke, what⁠—”

“You made a beautiful groom!” I cut him off with a laugh.

“Is that a condom?” one of our teenage cousins shouts a little too loudly.

“Marcus, shut your trap!” Jacob turns to snap at him, and I use the opportunity to slip away.

If Jacob wants to use condoms with his wife, that’s his deal. But only packing one… that’s rookie shit. It could break. You could want to fuck her in the morning. You could misplace one or have it stolen.

Really, he should be grateful I told him. He has time to find another one. Or three. This one isn’t special. And I know neither of them want kids yet, so it’s not like it’s sabotaged.

I lift a hand at one of my uncles before I set my empty glass on a table and keep walking.

Normally I wouldn’t be feeling it so much after two drinks. But that Perro Rabioso Whiskey hits, and I don’t drink that often, so my tolerance is low.

I have to wind around a few tables.

The dance floor, bar, and dinner tables are all on top of a large wooden platform that keeps us hovering a few inches above the sand.

It’s pretty, and the waves aren’t too far off in the distance.

My auntie tries to get my attention, but I pretend I can’t hear her.

She’s the one my mom lives with, and I know better than to stop. I lucked out with Mom staying home to watch Mr. Peter—they never leave the cat home alone, and it was Mom’s turn to stay back. If she’d have come and caught wind of me chasing a girl, she’d already have introduced herself and invited Natalie to Christmas.

Natalie.

With my eye on the prize, I step off the wooden platform onto the sand and start back toward the resort. Dim lights line the path, marking the way in the dark.

Earlier, Natalie mentioned that there were multiple locations for weddings. I have no idea where Natalie’s is, but the spot I’m at now is at the very end of the property. The path literally ends here, so she has to be this way.