“Black, what the hell are you talking about?” That wasn’t what I’d been expecting him to say. “You’ve said sorry plenty of times before.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, so you haven’t come right out and said those exact words, but you’ve shown me you were sorry. You’ve been showing me for a long time.” Jesse clapped his hand over my shoulder. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgave you a long time ago.”

I let that settle in for a few moments. And a few more. “Well, shit. If I’d known that, I could have saved my breath.”

Jesse’s smile stretched. “It’s all good. Besides, it’s nice to hear the words sometimes, you know?”

“You’ve got that intentional look,” I said, motioning at his face. “So whatever it is you’re thinking, you better spit it out.”

“The hard part is showing someone you’re sorry—or in a totally unrelated and not-at-all applicable situation . . . showing someone you love them.” Jesse’s tone gave me the equivalent of a nudge. Inapplicable, my ass. “The easy part is telling them.”

“Your point, Yoda?”

“You’ve already proven you love her. That’s the hard part. All you have to do is tell her.” How was he still able to talk, let alone form those kinds of thoughts, when he was supposed to be standing in front of an alter? Oh, yeah. Because he was Jesse fucking Walker.

“And that’s the easy part?” I said.

“As pie.”

I shoved his arm, pushing him through the office door. “Let’s get you to your wedding, princess.”

“I’ll make sure Rowen tosses the bouquet your way, sweetie,” Jesse said, adjusting his tie before buttoning his jacket.

“Bite me, Walker.”

He grinned at me. “Love you too, Black.”

Sliding the barn door open, I clamped my mouth closed. Dozens of faces turned their attention on the two of us. “You couldn’t have given me a little warning?” I hissed at him, keeping a smile plastered on as I followed him to the altar.

“Warning,” he said, waving at Clementine. She was practically bouncing in her seat.

Again, I had to fight the urge to buckle his knees out from under him. His wedding day. Dozens of people smiling at us. I should be on my best behavior. As the song the guitar player was strumming ended, he moved seamlessly into the next song. Even though I wasn’t a big Cash fan, I’d been around Jesse enough to know the song—“I Walk the Line.” I got the relevance, but really, the lyrics seemed more suited for a person like me than Jesse. A single guitar player was playing the song at half time, but the tune was almost haunting. I was practically wiping my eyes, and then the Walkers’ front door opened and Josie stepped out. Damn. If I’d been the crying type, I would have been a sobbing mess right then.

She clutched a bouquet and wore a pretty purple dress that moved with the breeze. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She always had been. And she always would be. She didn’t notice me at first—not until she’d made it down the stairs to the aisle. As soon as she saw me, her smile vanished. Her skin, already darkened a couple of shades from the early summer sun, whitened. Her pace slowed so much, I worried that she would turn around and bolt. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath, shifted her gaze away from me, and continued down the aisle. When she made it to the altar, she gave Jesse her standard slug greeting, then mouthed a quick Congratulations.

It was another surreal moment. The three of us all together as one was about to commit his life to the woman he loved. The three of us had grown up together, lived and learned together, loved and hurt one another. Yet after all of that, we were still together, practically shoulder to shoulder, supporting one who was ready to move on to the next phase of life. Jesse, Josie, and me—an unlikely trio of friends who’d been through it all.

“Hey, Joze,” I whispered to her, taking a step her direction. She greeted me back with a powerful glare. “You look beautiful.”

Her glare went from powerful to lethal. Jesse subtly elbowed me in the stomach before tilting his head back. “Don’t make eye contact. Keep your mouth shut. Until the end of the ceremony.” One more elbow before a small smile appeared. “Please.”

“Fine,” I mouthed before clamping my mouth shut. The guitar player was just getting to the second chorus when Rowen stepped out from behind the front door. She looked beautiful—Jesse was one hell of a lucky man—but I only kept my eyes on her for a moment. They shifted to the woman standing off to my side.

Every eye was on the bride coming down the aisle, but mine were on the woman I could only dream would make the same journey down the aisle toward me. I could tell Josie knew I was staring at her. She was obviously ignoring me, and her middle finger was extended behind her bouquet so only my eyes would see. That was a sure sign.

The song ended. Rowen took Jesse’s hands at the altar, vows and rings were exchanged, a kiss was shared that went on far too long for my liking . . . but I couldn’t pay attention to any of it. The only thing I could focus on was Josie. I tried looking away from her, but it was impossible. Jesse had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and I had too. The only difference was that it had taken me much longer to admit that to myself. Josie and I were like oil and vinegar at times, and her temper only served to fuel mine, but we belonged together. There wasn’t any more doubt in my mind. We belonged together. I’d accepted that. The trick was finding out if she still believed that.

That was how I watched one of my best friends marry the woman he loved—through the eyes of the woman I did. Once she stopped paying attention to me, her glare disappeared. Josie went from smiling, to shedding a few happy tears, to beaming, to crying, and then she repeated it as Jesse and Rowen exchanged rings. When the preacher pronounced them husband and wife, she smiled and clapped—everyone else was hooting and hollering like they were at a honky-tonk and not a wedding—but there was something sad about her expression. Her eyes couldn’t mask the sadness.

As Jesse and Rowen took the trip back down the aisle together to yet another Cash song strummed on a guitar, the Walkers descended on them before they made it far. There was so much hugging and kissing and crying from all of those sisters that I squirmed where I was at the front. Once they’d made it past the Walker bottleneck, Josie moved beside me. I sucked in a breath and smiled, but she wouldn’t look at me. She clearly had something to say because she just stood there, practically shoulder to shoulder with me, looking expectant.

After a few more seconds, she sighed. “You’re supposed to escort me down the aisle.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained the look. I held out my elbow for her. “I didn’t know that.”

“You might have if you’d made it to the rehearsal last night.” She wove her arm through my elbow, but she made sure that as little of her arm touched mine as possible. I was back to being radioactive.

“Yeah, I guess so. I had a few things to figure out.” We were able to speak in normal voices because everyone was still cheering and clapping for the newly married couple who’d already made their way through the Walkers’ front door.

“Well, I hope you got figured out what you needed figuring out.” Josie’s voice wasn’t warm, and it wasn’t particularly cold either. It was just . . . absent. Removed.

“I think I did.” I had to tap the shoulders of a few people who were blocking our way. It’s a wedding, people, not a rock concert. Get a grip.

“Great for you.” Josie’s arm weaved out of mine as we approached the porch steps. Instead of climbing them with me, she turned away and headed toward the side of the house. “Bye, Black.”

I watched her until she disappeared, calculating my next move. Chase her and tell her what I needed to say before everyone sat down for the reception? Bide my time and catch her later after a few dances and a couple glasses of wine? I decided to go after her then because there was no sense in waiting. I’d waited too long already. I filed around the Walkers’ house—along with everyone else who was making their way to the big white tent set up in back. I lost sight of Josie in the crowd, but I kept moving forward. We’d wind up in the same spot eventually.