Chapter Forty-Seven
Dylan
Five o’clock. I had to be in the barn at six-thirty. Mikey had taken his best man duties seriously, only dropping me off just now to shower and grab my s**t. Packing for a tour was muscle memory at this point, but I’d second-guessed myself repeatedly for the honeymoon. I double-checked my bag one more time, tossed a frozen dinner in the microwave, laid out my suit, and started the shower. Stirred the meal, put it back in the microwave, then hopped in under the water. By the time I was clean, my dinner for one wouldn’t burn my tongue.
Did I text my groomsmen to affirm they wouldn’t be late? Yep.
Good grief, I was the mellow one.
Except today.
I arrived at the compound at six-fifteen and headed for the barn. Beth intercepted me.
“Unh-uh, nope. You, in there.”
