“You can’t say that when she’s wearing a wedding dress,” she hushes us all right before we all burst out laughing, and the guys stare at us like we’re crazy. We are. And they should be used to it by now. “It’s a wedding dress, Gracie, not some saintly robe or something. He’s going to boink her in it later anyway,” Brynnie tells her, and I bury my face in Nixon’s chest, knowing what’s coming next. “He better not be boinking my sister,” Easton growls, and Lindy cups his cheek.
