Aria
Liam left for the tux fitting at ten and told me Cole would be over by noon to help with the seating chart.
I was still in the thin robe from the shower when the doorbell rang. Cole stood on the porch in a black T-shirt and jeans, duffel bag over one shoulder, the same easy smile he’d worn at the engagement party. Best man. Liam’s oldest friend. The one who’d clapped him on the back and said he was a lucky bastard for locking me down.
“Hey,” he said. “Liam said the spare room’s ready.”
“It is.” I stepped back. The robe slipped a little when I moved. His eyes dropped, just for a second, then came back up. “Come in.”
He walked past me. Clean cologne and something warmer underneath. I closed the door and followed him down the hall, hyper-aware of how little I was wearing and how qui
