The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(95)

Abby left, and Honor started off for a table so she could sit down and take some weight off her beleaguered feet. How Faith managed these shoes was a great mystery. “To Meghan from Steve, ‘One More for Love,’” the DJ said. “Great song, guys.”

“Honor! You look so gorgeous!” Jeremy Lyon gave her a kiss on the cheek, crazy handsome in his tux.

“Same to you,” Honor said. “Hi, Patrick.” Jer’s significant other gave a small wave. He was adorably shy.

“So you’re getting married,” Jeremy said. “Will I be invited? Please? Pretty please?”

“Oh, sure,” Honor said. “Of course.”

Jeremy winked at her. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”

“Thanks, buddy. Now go dance, you two. Put these straight people to shame.”

They obeyed.

“How you doing, boss?” Jessica asked.

“Good, good,” Honor said.

“Anything need doing?”

“Nope. You look gorgeous, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Jessica wore a short white turtleneck dress that would look boring on anyone else. As it was, she looked like a Norwegian supermodel. Black shoes. No makeup. Simple and stunning, making Honor feel like she was trying way too hard.

“You’re off the clock, Jess,” Honor said. “Have fun, okay? Enjoy yourself, get a drink, eat.”

“Will do. Hey, and you, too, okay?”

“Thanks. I will.”

Nice to have someone looking out for her. Jessica went off to talk to Levi, her old friend. The woman had a way with men, that was undeniable. Maybe Honor should fix Jack and Jessica up. Then again, what did she know?

“Honor. You’re beautiful.”

Brogan. “Hey there,” Honor said.

“To Paul from Liza, ‘Someone Like You’ by Adele!” the DJ boomed, and the song of perpetual misery and inability to move on wailed from the speakers.

“Looks like the night is a big success,” Brogan said, an easy grin on his face.

“Yes, yes. We had an anonymous donation for ten thousand dollars,” she said, glancing around for a sister. Nope. Never around when you needed one.

“Did you?” he asked, winking.

“Yes. Very—oh. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“I believe it was anonymous,” he said, his grin widening.

“Thank you.” For some reason, Honor’s heart felt thorny. Guilt money. Brogan was throwing money at her cause because he—

“Babe, there you are! Oh, hi, Honor. Don’t you look nice.”

“Dana. You, too.” Dana wore a short, white lace dress that looked as bridal as could be. Her ring—the one Honor had so loved before she’d realized that antique was really more her style—flashed, and matching rocks winked from her ears.

“So where’s this fiancé of yours?” Dana asked. “Did he come?”

“Oh, sure. He’s here. Schmoozing, I think.” Hopefully not drinking to excess or brooding in the back somewhere.

“How’s his eye?” Brogan asked.

“It’s good,” Honor answered, her face prickling.

“Right! I heard you sent him to the E.R. Wow, Honor.” Dana arched a silky eyebrow. “Impressive.”

“She doesn’t know her own strength, do you, darling? Here’s your wine, by the way.” Tom, thank God. He put a heavy arm around her shoulders, firmly back in the role of smitten fiancé.

Hey. She’d take it.

“So when is your wedding?” Dana asked.

“June 2, darling? Are we set on that date?” Tom asked.

“I think so,” she said.

“Is that your ring?” Dana asked, seizing her hand. “Oh, wow! It’s really cute. Brogan, isn’t that sweet?”

“It’s beautiful,” he said. His eyes were...kind. Then he glanced at Dana, and his expression changed, and Honor recognized it immediately, having seen it on her own face for fifteen years, every time she was about to see Brogan.

Love. Slightly helpless, a touch confused, a dash of vulnerable and a whole lotta happy. Brogan hadn’t planned on falling for Dana, Honor could see it. It really had just happened...at least, for him.

“So we booked the Pierre,” Dana was saying, “because Brogan knows the Steinbrenners, of course, and they do a lot of business there, so it should be pretty fab. But I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about meeting so many sports gods, right? I mean, like, Robbie Cano? At my wedding?”

“And who’s that?” Tom asked. Honor felt like kissing him.

“He’s the third baseman for the Yankees,” Dana said.

“Second baseman,” Honor and Brogan corrected at the same time.

Tom was looking at her. Flashed that adorable smile, though his eyes stayed somber.

“Heard you’re quite a hero,” came a voice.

“Colleen!” Tom said with genuine warmth. “My favorite bartender.”

“My favorite Brit,” Colleen returned. “Hey, guys. Everyone having fun?”

“Absolutely,” Honor said.

“Who’s your lucky date, Colleen?” Tom asked.

“My brother.”