“Heaven,” I say aloud.
It takes us three times to get it right, and when April declares we’re ready for tomorrow, everyone cheers. Then, Carter yells, “Drinks are on me!” Which is funny since he didn’t pay for a single thing.
On the way back to our house, Evan puts his arm over my shoulder. “Tomorrow is the big day. Cold feet?”
“Not in the slightest.”
He leans down and kisses my nose without losing stride. “It’s been a long time coming. Tomorrow can’t get here fast enough. Do you really have to go to your parents?”
“My parents want one piece of this wedding to have some tradition to it.”
“Overrated,” he says with a smile. I like to blame my parents, but deep down, I want at least one thing to be traditional about our wedding, and if that means I have to give up a night with my Archer boys, I’ll do it.
When we get back to the house, Nate fires up the grill and starts cooking. Penny helps me with bartending while the moms sit out by the pool, watching the kids.
As soon as we serve dinner, Evan stands up and asks for everyone’s attention. “Ryley and I want to thank you all for coming over tonight and for being with us tomorrow. As you all know, I’ve waited what feels like eons to marry this girl, and I kick myself for not doing it when she turned eighteen. Sorry, Jensen.” Everyone laughs. “Whether then or now, the love I have for you, Ryley, has grown by leaps and bounds. From the day I met you and until the day I die, you will always be the love of my life.” Evan holds his beer bottle up, and we all follow with our drinks. “To my bride, tomorrow, I get to call you my wife, and that moment cannot come fast enough.”
“Here, here,” everyone says in unison as Evan leans down and kisses me.
“Are you sure you have to go to your parents?” he whispers in my ear. I nod against him. He sighs. “Fine, you’re forcing my hand.”
“What does that mean?”
Evan says nothing.
He winks.
CHAPTER 7
EVAN
When we decided to move back to California, I thought we’d pick a place away from the Navy, where we could buy some land and raise EJ away from the city; a place without neighbors peeping through their windows and traffic. That’s my hang-up, the number of cars coming and going in residential areas. I have every license plate of every resident in my neighborhood memorized. I’m not taking any chances with my family because I firmly believe evil lurks in the darkness.
One of Ryley’s favorite features of this house is our bedroom balcony. Out here, we can hear the ocean when there isn’t a plane flying overhead. She says the sound of the jets is calming and gives her peace. Each time a Black Hawk or C-130 rises above the houses, I wonder if it’s for practice or something is going on. I miss the SEALs. I miss being part of the action. I miss being needed in a way that’s hard to describe to a layperson. Everyone outside of the military thinks that we like killing people. It’s not that at all—we do what we have to, to keep people safe. That’s the thrill, knowing my successful missions help others sleep at night.
I stand on the balcony and stare over the rooftops of my neighbors, grateful for housing codes that prevent people from building three-story homes. I love the view we have, even if living here puts me on edge.
Tomorrow is my wedding day, a day that should’ve come six or seven years ago, but someone took that away from me and from Ryley. When I returned from the fateful mission that nearly destroyed my life, I never thought this day would come. Thankfully, her love for me prevailed, and when the sun sets again, she’ll be my wife.
I pull my cell phone out and press the button. As soon as my brother picks up, I ask, “Can you come over?”
“I’m on my way.”
Nothing about my upcoming nuptials has been traditional, except for a few things. I haven’t seen Ryley’s dress, and her parents insisted that she spend the night away from me. I can’t remember the last time we haven’t slept in the same house since I returned. Even when we rescued Penny and Claire, Ryley was with me. Even though I know she’s safe at her parents, my heart can’t take it.
A black car with dark tinted windows pulls up in front of my house. I wait a beat for the driver to get out, but they idle at the curb. My hand instantly goes to my waistband, where my gun isn’t. I rarely have it on me when I’m home, but I never leave the house without it. From where I’m standing, I’m close enough to my gun safe should I perceive the threat as real. I reach inside of my room and flip the light switch off. The overhead street lamps offer me enough light to watch whoever lurks in the darkness.