Back in the dressing room, Lane carefully shrugged out of the suit jacket and hung it back on the hanger. Then he unbuttoned the waistcoat and shirt, lingering over each button. He couldn’t shake the image of himself and Remy in the mirror, both incredibly sexy and dressed to the nines. He’d been fine when he had two weeks left of bachelorhood, but now they’d exchange their wedding vows in less than twenty-four hours, and the thought was sort of paralyzing, if Lane were being honest. This time last year, he’d been anxious about what Remy might say when presented with the ring he’d purchased for his lover for Christmas. A ring Remy himself had also bought for Lane. But he’d said yes, and here they were, days from marrying.
So why was Lane still anxious?
This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?
