Justice Falling (Falling #3)(44)

My brother Collier caught my eye and nodded his head. He mouthed the word “stunning” and tilted his head toward her. I grinned wide, put my hand around her chair, and tugged Camille a little closer to kiss her temple. He shook his head with a huge smile. That’s right big brother, I’ve taken the plunge.

London’s eyes darted to Collier’s then to mine. She clasped her hands in front of her and giggled with barely contained glee.

Over the next fifteen minutes everyone ordered their food and boisterously talking over one another, as usual. I loved having Camille participate, being a part of what I considered my dearest friends. For the first time, I wasn’t alone. I had someone to share in this joy. It was bloody awesome.

After the food was delivered, Collier and London kept winking at each other, sharing secrets in each other’s ear in between bites of their lunch. Then I spotted something I never expected. London’s left hand held a thin gold band on her ring finger. No diamond, nothing special about it but the same flash of gold glinted on my brother’s hand.

Holy f*cking shite.

“Colly, you got something you want to share, brother mine?” I asked then looked down at his hand. His jaw clenched, and he put his arm around London. The irritation in my voice could not be cooled. The entire table went dead silent. Forks and knives were set down and all eyes were on the conspicuous couple across the table.

“Wanker,” Collier gritted through his teeth then grinned. “I guess now’s as good a time as any. You all remember a couple weeks ago when London and I went to Atlantic City?” Most the heads around the table nodded back to taking bites of food, sipping their beverages as they paid attention. “You see, London and I had a wild hair--”

“Spit it out already, my food’s gettin’ cold,” Hank encouraged, then placed an arm around his wife. She leaned into his side automatically.

“Hmm, how do I say this…,” Collier faltered.

“Oh honey, come on. Men!” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “We got married!” London squealed then held up her hand. The simple gold band gleamed in the sunlight.

Collective gasps ricocheted through the group. Tripp stood, walked around the table and tapped Collier on the shoulder. He looked up at Tripp then stood once he saw the menacing look on the man’s puss.

“How could you, Bond!” He shoved Collier. London stood and got between the two. “I can’t believe you’d do that. Not f*cking cool!” He roared. Tripp, London, and Collier had a weird dynamic, especially after Tripp donated his kidney to save my brother’s life. For the past few months though, they’d been the three amigos. I would never have expected him to have a violent reaction. My hackles rose ready to get up and defend my brother.

“Tripp, sweetie, really it’s not his fault. It was my idea!” London yelled. He stared at her, his eyes showing a world of hurt.

“You f*cking eloped, Bridge?” Tripp locked his jaw, then turned around.

I hugged Camille to my side and watched the show. Standing behind Tripp, Aspen did not look pleased. With her hands on her hips, her giant pregnant belly protruded in front of her like a shield. She flicked her hair behind her and narrowed her eyes at London and Collier.

“What in the world would make you think it was okay to run off and elope?” The couple looked at one another, mouths opening and closing like fish out of water. “How could you not think about how that would make the rest of us feel?” The waterworks started. “That was incredibly selfish. Every single person here would have been honored to watch two people that we love bind themselves to one another. But no! You took the easy way out.” She shook her head back and forth, then clutched at her stomach and keeled over. Her expression turned pained.

Camille jumped up and ran to Aspen’s side. “Where do you feel it? Back? Abdomen?”

“All over.” Aspen gritted her teeth.

“No, no, no. It’s too f*ckin’ early,” Hank growled, then escorted his wife back to her seat. “Deep breaths, Darlin’.”

Camille stood in front of Aspen, talking quietly. She asked if she could touch her belly and Aspen nodded. Then she looked at Hank, waiting for his approval. He nodded and looked at her as if she was the sweetest woman in the whole world. Probably because she was.

She laid a hand on Aspen’s belly. “Hold my hand Aspen. When you feel a contraction squeeze my hand, okay?” Camille was all business. I loved watching her. The issue with my brother and London’s untimely nuptials were forgotten in Aspen’s obvious condition.

London was around the other side of Aspen, whispering in her ear, apologizing, kissing and nuzzling her hair. Aspen focused on her baby and squeezed Camille’s hand when warranted. Camille looked at her watch. “Was it stronger, the same, or lighter.”

“It was lighter. It didn’t hurt all over.” Aspen took a deep breath. Hank watched, his sharp eyes flicking to Aspen then to Camille. Oliver stood behind them pacing back and forth, his ear to a phone.

“Yes, contractions. We don’t know!” he roared into the phone.

“Buddy, keep it down. You talking to the doctor?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said, phone plastered to his ear. Camille shared some specifics with Oliver which he reiterated into the phone.

After thirty nail-biting minutes, it was determined that Aspen had been having Braxton Hicks contractions, also known as false labor. Her breathing returned to normal, the baby settled down, and Hank hovered near his wife like a lion protecting his cubs.