“Hey,” he rasped as he pulled into a cute little neighborhood. “You never have to apologize to me. At least now I don’t have to drive out to the beach and get blackout drunk on your wedding day.” I looked up at him. Chase’s eyes were locked on mine. It was like he was staring straight into my soul. There wasn’t a shred of humor in his voice when he said, “It was either get drunk or be the guy who storms in and crashes the wedding when the preacher asks if anyone objects.”
