Jesse’s face couldn’t have gotten more solemn. Then he grinned. “Are we having another moment?”
I should have shoved him off the rock. “Shithead.”
Jesse laughed, sending another rock skipping into the river. I was too pissed to count. “I know. Difficult as you are and as much as I know you’d rather chop off your left arm than show any real emotion, I know you’ve got Rowen’s and my back when and if we need it.” He paused just long enough to cue me in that he was winding up to say something big. Jesse loved using dramatic pauses. “You do know, though, that friends-through-thick-and-thin goes both ways, right? You need something, we’re a phone call or a five-hundred mile drive away.”
“So you shouldn’t be the first person I call if I sever my carotid artery?”
“Only if you’ve got a death wish.” That ever-present hint of smile fell clean off of Jesse’s face. “Shit, Garth. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that . . .”
“Walker, please, for the love of god”—I picked up one of the rocks just so I could squeeze it—“don’t start treating me like I’m some nut case about to stuff my head in an oven. Give me enough credit that I’m too self-centered to do something like that because really, I can’t take another person treating me like I’m going to implode if they say the wrong thing.”
Jesse stared out into the river before nodding. “I can do that. No imploding nut cases around here.”
“Ha. Other than the one beside me.”
“At least your warped sense of humor is still intact,” Jesse replied.
“In tip-top shape actually.” The rock I was squeezing was either going to break a few bones in my hand or crumble, so before either rock or hand broke, I hurled it into the river. No skipping that time.
“If you want to take some time off and come hang out with Rowen and me in Seattle—”
I lifted my hand, stopping him. “Again, your woman already beat you to the offer-the-loon-refuge punch. If I wasn’t terrified of the permanent damage that would be done to me hearing the two of your freaky mating sounds, I might actually take Seattle and your couch into consideration.”
“Green much?” Jesse quipped, unfazed.
“Gloat much?”
Jesse sighed. “Take it or leave it, just so long as you know you’re welcome whenever. Okay?”
I nodded my acknowledgement because I knew Jesse wouldn’t let it go until I did. Before he could get anything else out, because lord knows, that guy couldn’t not talk if his life depended on it, I took the conversation and ran with it. “So, what about you? How’s pu**y-whipped life . . . I mean ball-and-chain life . . . I mean married life . . . I mean engaged life treating you?”
“Just so you know, if you hadn’t just been at your dad’s funeral fifteen minutes ago, your ass would be off this rock right now.”
“Fuck, Jess. I thought I told you to stop treating me like a self-imploder?”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
Then before I noticed him move, my ass didn’t fall off that rock—it flew off. It was a damn good thing said ass landed on a patch of sand, or I would have paid back the favor and then some. “I sure have missed you, Jess. Kind of like the girl you screw once and who just won’t take a hint that you don’t want to slap a ring on her.”
“Missed you too, pal.”
“This summer, eh? You’re really ready to castrate yourself?” I’d almost climbed back on top of the rock when Jesse gave me a warning look. “I mean, you’re really ready to tie the knot?”
“I’m really ready.”
“My god, Walker. You are insane.”
“It’s a concept you will never quite grasp, I get it.” Jesse slid out of his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
“What? Getting married?”
His head moved side to side. “No, loving a woman enough to even imagine getting married.”
“Ouch.” I thumped my fist against my chest. “I just ‘buried’ my father. Take it easy on me.”
“I thought you didn’t want me treating you any differently.”
“So did I,” I replied.
“Well make up your mind already.” Jesse smiled at me and hell if I couldn’t not smile back.
“What’s the rush?”
“I was planning on asking you to be my best man, but that seems wrong if you’re still under the belief that love and marriage are your arch nemeses. I need a best man who’ll support me and have my back, not one who’ll try to talk me out of saying ‘I do’ right up until I say it.” I glanced over at him, lifting my brows. “Or talk me out of it after saying ‘I do,’” Jesse added with an eye roll. “Not exactly the kind of stuff a guy needs in a best man.”
“But you and I both know no one is better suited to throw the bachelor party that would go down in infamy. We’re talking get Guinness on the phone because we’re going to break every bachelor party record out there.”
Jesse pitched another rock into the river. “Yeah, something else I’m really not looking for in a best man.”
“You suck the fun out of any and every situation, you know that?” Even though I was masking the whole best-man conversation with humor, I was honored as all hell that he’d even consider me his best man. We’d grown up together, but plenty of shit had gone down between us—thanks to yours truly—and I just considered myself lucky that Jesse still talked to and tolerated me. Never once had I guessed he’d consider me as his best man.