Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Chapter Twenty-One
Sitting with his brothers, Ace angled back in his chair at the round table closest to the stone fireplace at Sam’s, the heat pressing against one side of his body while the rest of him still carried the chill from outside. Sam’s always smelled like woodsmoke and spilled beer, with a trace of old varnish baked into the beams overhead. A couple of locals lingered at the far end of the bar, boots hooked on the rungs of their stools, low voices blending with the hum of the refrigeration units behind the counter.
Christian cleared his throat.
Ace looked over at him immediately. “You okay?”
Truth be told, Christian looked a little pale under the overhead lights.
“C?” Brock asked.
Christian looked at them. “Amka’s pregnant.”
Ace’s jaw almost hit the floor. For a split second, the crackle of the fire behind him seemed louder than everything else. “Oh, wow.”
“Congrats.” Damian slapped Christian on the back hard enough to jolt the table.
“Thanks.” Christian gave a tight nod. “Yep.” He did look faintly green.
Brock grinned. “Hey, that’s great news.”
“Yeah.” Christian inhaled slowly. “Couple of things.”
Ace leaned forward, forearms on the table. This was Christian. It was going to be interesting. “What’s up?”
“First, we’re getting married this Saturday. You’re all in the wedding.”
“Okay,” Ace said without hesitation. A week was nothing in Knife’s Edge. People built decks in less time. “What else?”
Christian sighed. “She still wants me to go to training. So I’ll be out of town.”
Ah. There it was.
“We’ve got her covered,” Brock said immediately.
“I promise.” Ace held Christian’s gaze. Christian waited for it—the nod. Ace gave it, solid and steady. Damian and Brock nodded too.
Damian planted a hand on the table. “Of course we’ve got her. I’ll come into town more often while you’re gone.”
“And you can come back on weekends, right?” Brock added. “She can fly up and see you.”
“Yeah.” Christian’s attention shifted fully to Ace now. The firelight caught in his eyes. “I need you to fly again. There’s nobody I want in the air with her but you.”
It felt like a punch to the solar plexus. But if his brother was asking, there was only one answer to give. Ace kept his face neutral and gave a short nod. “All right. I’ll be in the air by the time you leave.”
“I leave in a week and a half,” Christian reminded him.
“I know.” Ace had no damn clue how he was going to get in the air that fast. He’d barely managed to sit in the plane without sweating through his shirt. He’d probably need to see Smitty every day, and apparently he’d better make an offer on that sea plane before someone else did. Even thinking about it made his stomach turn, but underneath that was another feeling. A pull. A flicker of anticipation that wouldn’t die. She was a gorgeous bird. Clean lines. Power waiting.
“All right,” Brock said, dragging him back to the moment. “You want us in tuxes?”
Christian blinked, momentarily thrown, then masked it fast. “I have no idea.” He twisted in his chair and looked over his shoulder. “Amka?”
“Yes?” she called back from behind the bar, not looking up yet.
“First of all, come sit down and rest.” His voice hardened a notch. “Second, are we supposed to wear tuxes at the wedding?”
Amka calmly finished pouring from a pitcher into several beer glasses, sliding them down the bar to waiting hands. “Do you want to wear tuxes?” she called back. “And I’m just fine. I don’t need to sit down.”
Christian’s jaw ticked. “What are you going to wear?”
“I’m wearing a dress. It’s white,” she said, rolling her eyes, and amusement wandered through Ace despite everything else going on.
Christian looked at his brothers. “I think we should wear tuxes.” He said it like he had just decided the weather. “I mean, since she’s wearing a white dress and all.”
Ace would have been less surprised if Christian had leaned across the table and punched him in the face. Tuxes. In five days. In Knife’s Edge. “Where are we going to get tuxes that quickly?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Damian said without hesitation.
Christian’s lips twitched. “That’s what I hoped.”
“Not a problem.” Damian cocked his head, probably mentally sorting logistics. “Hey, Amka? Who are your bridesmaids, and do they need dresses?”
Amka handed a loaded tray to Daisy and wiped her hands on a bar towel. “My bridesmaids are May, Ophelia, and Daisy.” She plopped straws into a holder. “And yes, they need dresses. I think they were talking about flying into Fairbanks later this week.”
“If you need help, let me know. I might be able to get ahold of dresses as well, but it would probably be better if they try them on. I know the sizes of all the guys.” Damian looked back at Amka. “What color cummerbunds do you want?”
“If you go in tuxes, just make them all black and white,” she said.