![]() “You look like the guy who came to measure for the new windows yesterday.” I’m just being honest.” A cheeky grin appeared. ![]() Is this any better?” Turning around, I held out my arms, showing off the new version of my party outfit. That’s not that old,” she said, letting me know with her tone that it was somewhat old. “A widower,” I told her, slipping a new belt through the loops. I unbuckled it, deciding to swap it for a darker brown leather. “It’s a guy who isn’t married.” I scratched my jaw. “What’s a bachelor, anyway?” Mariah wondered. He was getting married in two weeks, and I was the best man-in other words, tonight was a must-show. ![]() “Yes.” Bachelor parties were not my favorite thing, but Griffin Dempsey and I had grown up next door to each other, and we’d been best friends since we were younger than Mariah. “But it’s a party, right? A bachelor party for Uncle Griffin?” ![]() Mariah entered the room and flopped onto my bed, chin propped in her hands. Was that the problem? Or was it the khaki pants? “It’s just my friends at the pub.” I frowned at the hunter green polo shirt I’d chosen because it was on the top of the pile in my drawer. I studied my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. “Is that what you’re going to wear?” My nine-year-old daughter, Mariah, assessed me from my bedroom doorway, her nose wrinkled. ![]()
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