by S. E. Hall
Her whole body lags with her breath of relief. “I wish you were my aunt.”
“Well, keep it up with JT and I just might be one day.” I shouldn’t have said that, my nephew is horny on wheels, putting the “lay” in playboy. He’s funny, smart, looks just like his daddy and comes from money. What’d everyone think was gonna happen? And I’d bet a limb, he won’t be settling down anytime soon.
Another crisis adverted, we’re mere steps from Skylar’s room when I’m grabbed from behind.
“Gotta talk to you.” Zach’s hot breath rushes over my neck and my skin tightens with a coat of goose bumps.
“Macie, go on in. I’ll be in there in a minute,” I tell her in what sounds like my sex phone operator voice, cause the hard body pressed up behind me, has my heartbeat accelerating.
Zach drags me around the corner, and I almost miss that fact that he’s worried, too busy studying his chest, a broad plane of compact muscles displayed beautifully in his tight gray t-shirt, heaving in and out, speaking sign language to my libido.
Oh, wait, we’re still fighting...down girl!
“What?” I tame the rasp of my desire in my voice—I tell myself that anyway—and do my best to feign annoyance.
“Okay, don’t say anything till I’m done. Promise?” He’s holding both my shoulders now, his concerned eyes a deep jade. He can’t ever hide it from me when he’s troubled, cause happy Zach’s eyes are a clear, mist green. And turned-on Zach... I digress.
“Yep.” I roll my hand, urging him to spit it out.
“So, Laney came and found me, asked about us, why we were fighting. I didn’t tell her anything specifically about that, but she figured it out. You know how she is, fucking mind warps ya before you even know it happened.”
I am familiar with the Jedi mind tricks of Laney.
“She doesn’t know when though, Bennett. I swear. That’s why I had to come find ya, cause you know she’s gonna talk to you. I didn’t want you to assume I told her everything and give her more than she really had. I would never do that to you.”
I don’t know how or why, but something inside me snaps, and I’m done. Done with the lies of omission, the guilt, and most of all, I’m done putting everyone else before myself. I step into him and run my hands up his torso, leaving one to lay over his drumming heartbeat. “Do you regret it?” I ask, a hitch in my whisper.
Instantly, he answers, husky and impassioned, no room for apology. “Not for a single, fucking second. And I never will. Only a fool would regret perfection.”
“Yeah, me either” I agree in eager honesty. “Okay then.” I clear my throat and back up a step, acting the resigned, stoic girl I don’t feel. “Fuck ’em!”
He teeters back on one heel, caught off guard by my sudden shift in mood. “What?”
“Fuck. Them,” I grit out. “Fuck them all. They don’t get to judge us and I’m sick of being afraid they will. It’s time for us to breathe easily again, quit living under the shadow of shame, when neither of us are ashamed. If she asks, I’m telling her, and you might as well head it off at the pass with Dane.”
“You sure?” His smile confirms I’m making the right decision; it’s fuller, brighter and more carefree than I’ve seen in a long time. “So what’s this mean for us?”
“I don’t know yet. One thing at a time.” I shrug. “Haven’t even gotten use to this revelation yet. I gotta get in there, and I’m sure they’re wondering down at the boys’ club where you are. See ya later?”
“Count on it.” He taps the end of my nose and turns to go.
Laney still hasn’t said a word to me about it and I’m sitting on a hair-trigger, just waiting. But between Whitley’s list of games and lots of Champagne, thank God the grandmas skipped this portion of festivities she’s been too busy to grill me.
“Everyone, please sit down. I have some gifts I’d like to hand out,” Skylar announces, producing intricately put together bags from the closet. I stifle a laugh; if Sky didn’t look like Laney, I’d swear there was a mix up at the hospital. The gift bags are pink, everyone’s names on them in glitter, with clouds of tissue paper coming out.
But despite the fancy, I know there’s tears in everyone’s immediate future.
“Macie.” She holds out her present, “thank you for being here now, and always, one of my best friends. I love you.” Macie opens it, a tee-shirt that reads ‘the Bride’s Ride or Die Homie,’ and a gift card to some store I’ve never heard of.
“Aunt Emmett.” She presents her with a bag. “Thank you for always loving and supporting me, always the calm in our storm. And especially for putting up with Uncle Sawyer. We kinda like him and you’re the only woman for the job.”
“Amen!” I raise my glass and everyone joins me.
I’m next and my gift is a silk pajama set, same style as Emmett’s but in blue to her purple, delivered with an just as endearing of a speech, thanking me for being the one she can tell anything to, earning me a suspicious glance from Laney. Bonus.
Presley receives the same pajamas, in pink of course with a pair of earrings and a teary thank you for always being like a sister to her.
Next is Brynn. Her bag is ripping at the edges it’s stuffed so full. “My baby sister, the one who is supposed to look up to me, but really, I look up to you, in awe. Thank you, not only for being my maid of honor and best friend in the entire world, but for being my inspiration, the bar on which I set what kind of person I want to be. Yes, you’re brilliant, beautiful and one heck of an athlete. But most importantly, you’re kind, truly kind. Humble, empathetic, and selfless. I love you so much, Brynny Bear.”
Not a dry eye in the room. And just when I thought the hard part was over, and I had no tears left to cry... Skylar asks Laney and Whitley both to stand up together.
I scoot over next to Brynn and grab her hand for strength. If anyone will hold it together for this part, it’ll be Brynn. I plan to hide behind her while I blubber.
“Mama.” Skylar gets out the one word before she’s covering her mouth and sobbing. She waves the other in front of her face until she’s able to speak again and continues. “I admire you, the woman you are. You taught me to be independent and strong. Confident. So strong and confident, that you still know how important you are, even when you take a step back.” Skylar holds out a necklace and Laney lifts her hair so Sky can put it on her. It’s a small silver heart, but only half, with a crooked edge, engraved on it is ‘Mama.’ “I love you so much. Thank you for being exactly the mom that you are, unconventional and tough, but perfect.”
How I can possibly hear what she’s saying over my snotty, snorting bawling... no clue. Laney’s doing great though, still standing upright, twirling her new necklace adoringly.
“And Whitley. Not that it took a lot of convincing.” Skylar giggles faintly. “But Mom and I decided that you would be in complete charge of this wedding. Not only because you’d do a great job, and you deserve it, but because we all know how hard you struggled to have children. I sure am glad Judd’s the one God chose to give you though, thank him for it every day. And I know you wanted a daughter too.” Skylar is barely understandable now, her nose stopped up from the endless flow of tears, and her hands shake as she holds up the other half of the necklace, “well now you have one.” She clasps the half-heart, edges matching Laney’s, around Whitley’s neck. It too reads ‘Mama.’ “And you got to plan her wedding. Thank you. For Judd, and for loving me like your own daughter, which I now am. I love you.”
That’s it, I’m calling it, my heart can’t take anymore.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet Skylar.” Whitley wraps her new daughter in her arms, soaking her pajama top in tears of pure joy.
After a handful of miscarriages, Whitley finally got her girl.
And Laney looks on happily—for Whitley of course—and because she didn’t have to plan a wedding.
Just kidding. Sorta.
I chug my flute of champagne, but a hand stops me from refilling it. “Not so fa
st, want ya sober for this conversation.” Laney simpers.
“Really? Can’t we just keep crying, drinking and being happy? Do you think Skylar’s night is the best time to do this?” I swat away her hand and pour, generously.
“You just made my point for me, that now’s the perfect time. Everyone’s happy, Bennett, except you and Zach. I can’t enjoy all the love around me knowing you’re both miserable. Let’s see if we can fix that, shall we?”
See, what Laney forgets is, I’m not happy-go-lucky Bennett anymore, who skips behind her, humming a happy tune while she leads. And I’ve been drinking.
And I already gave the green light to set Zach in motion. Time to pull my half of the weight. Yep, let’s do this!”
“Squad girls, stay here, and make noise. Crew women, bedroom with me please, now!” I bellow, and march that way.
Oh sweet baby in a manger... I did ask them to make noise so they wouldn’t hear, but do we really have to listen to ‘Watch Me’? Seriously, like four of the nine batters on Brynn’s team use it as their walk-up song, makes my brain bleed at this point. But not my baller, Brynn struts up to go yard to “Here Comes The Boom.” Hell yes it does.
“Whit!” I snap my fingers in front of her face. “It’s stanky leg, not broken leg, and I need your attention. Ladies, please have a seat.”
Laney’s nose scrunches up as she sits on the bed... her daughter and Judd’s mattress of matrimony. Serves her meddling ass right.
“I’m about to tell you all something, that you’re not gonna like, because Laney is nosey, shocker, I know, and won’t let it go. And because frankly, I’m sick of the monkey on my back.” I stand in front of them where they all three sit on the bed—three lil’ ducks in a row—and stiffen my shoulders, spreading my stance with pride and authority. “I slept with Zach.”
Laney just grins smugly like she knew something first. Let’s see how long that lasts. Whitley claps and bounces in place, I’d expect nothing less. And Emmett. Em watches me carefully, her eyes guarded and assessing, her mouth set in a straight, untelling line. She’s married to Sawyer, of course she’s always waiting for “the other part.”
Time to possibly lose the three most important women in my life.
“Once.”
Whitley stops clapping, a confused dip to her brow line.
I suck in a deep breath and say the rest on the rush of outgoing air. “Less than a month after Tate died.”
There’s the gasps of horror I was waiting for.
“I’m sorry. For not telling you sooner,” I quickly amend. “And for springing it on you now, of all times.” I stare pointedly at Laney. “And I know the timing of when it happened seems like I’m a heartless bitch, you’re all well within your rights to think that and hate me, but I’m not sorry it happened.”
Not sure when I fell to my knees and started crying, but that’s exactly how I find myself.
Laney’s are the first arms wrapped around me, her tears wetting my hair where her cheek rests. “Nobody hates you or thinks badly of you, Ben. None of us have any idea what it’s like to lose our fiancé, so we have no right to judge.”
“Exactly,” Whitley agrees. “I’m glad you had Zach to comfort you, take care of you. Grief comes in many forms, so does coping.”
Emmett, with the biggest surprise...ever, laughs! Loud and hearty. “The best news is, now that you got that off your chest, you can go back to licking his!”
When my wide, shocked eyes lift to hers, she just shrugs unapologetically. “My husband’s Sawyer, hello? Yes, I’m a freak. You and Zach are perfect together, jump back on that girl!”
“Mother, ew! Scarred for life out here!” Presley yells through the door.
Should’ve noticed the music quit playing.
“Ya’ll quit listening or I’m gonna whoop some butts!” Laney’s threat is met with a round of unconcerned cackles.
“So we good now, feel better?” Whitley asks me, helping me stand.
“Yeah.” I wipe my face. “Thank you, all of you, for being so understanding and supportive. Hopefully Zach gets the same reaction from the guys.”
“Whadda’ you mean?” Laney gulps, her expression the definition of agony.
“Zach, I told him he might as well fess up too. We’re sick of feeling guilty. Why?”
“Bennett, no! Dane, oh God, I mean, that was his brother. Oh, this is bad, this is so bad!” Laney’s rambling, flinging open the door, scrambling for our shoes, her phone... sanity. “You girls stay here, I mean it. You three.” she points at me, Whit and Em, “we gotta fucking go!”
And This is Why We Don’t Have More Friends
I can’t recall the last time I saw Dane have more than a drink or two, but he’s on number three that I’ve seen so far tonight… and I was late getting here. But he’s laughing and laid-back, especially considering what tomorrow holds; both good signs for me and the upcoming conversation he and I need to have.
The actual ceremony doesn’t start until late afternoon tomorrow, so Sawyer and Blaze should have time to recover from their hangovers, which they will undoubtedly have. Yeah, Beckett’s drunk and he’s bringing Blaze down with him. His arm’s actually slung around Blaze’s shoulder, need I say more? And the instruction manual he’s laying out for the kid is being done pretty good-naturedly, considering.
“Okay, one more time, boy. My daughter, your Harley, what’s the rule? Sawyer asks him.
“She can’t ride with me, anymore,” he mumbles that last word under his breath but I hear it and laugh inwardly. “Until you do, testing out my driving skills and general safety knowledge.” Blaze recites.
“Correct.” Sawyer pats his shoulder. “Next, slumber parties, what’s the policy?”
“Slumber parties don’t exist. As far as I’m concerned, Presley doesn’t have a bed, or a couch. And if you catch me in either, you will tie me to it and set me on fire. I take her on nice dates then walk her to the door, take a quick peek inside to ensure the perimeter is safe, then take my sorry ass and blue balls home.”
“You’re doing good, boy, quick learner. You left out back seats and your own bed or couch, but I’m sure you know those are a given. There no loopholes in this system.”
“I got it,” Blaze drones.
“Great! Here, have a shot.” Saw slides him one, matching him by downing one of his own. Works for me. It’s keeping Beckett calm, and has him believing that Blaze, in some unknown realm of possibility, is actually gonna follow these guidelines, he’s wasting his breath laying out.
“Judd, let’s me and you take on Ryder and Blaze in some pool.” JT suggests; perhaps to rescue Blaze, or maybe to save himself from boredom.
“Actually, I kinda wanted to talk to your dad,” Ryder tells him. Shit, unforeseen plot twist. Not tonight, kid, work with me dammit!
“Please don’t,” Dane groans. Yeah, please don’t!
“Man, Kendrick. You’re just getting it from all sides you poor bastard. I’m surprised your head hasn’t blown right the fuck off yet.” Sawyer whoops, slapping a hand down on the table, gut-laughing. “Skylar’s getting married tomorrow, JT was late cause he was laying it to that bridesmaid girl and Ride Her’s about to hit ya up on baby Brynny. You’re about to lose your shit, aren’t ya?”
“You’re an idiot.” Evan shakes his head and stands. “You and I are gonna go play pool, or throw darts, maybe find you a muzzle on the way. Get your dumb ass up.” He kicks Sawyer’s chair.
Still chuckling to himself, Sawyer stands and follows him.
And Dane waits until Evan has him all the way across the bar before he turns in his chair to face Ryder. “I’m assuming you haven’t changed your mind or forgotten. So, you had something you wanted to discuss with me?”
“Yes, um, sir.” Ryder’s more nervous than that Duggar kid checking his Facebook feed. “I was wondering—”
Dane interrupts, holding up a hand to stop him, letting out a heavy sigh heard around the world. “I’m in a surprisingly good mood, so
I’m gonna stop ya right there and help you out real quick.” Dane leans forward, elbows on the table; watching the ice clink around the glass he’s rolling back and forth in one hand. “Let me give you a brief run-down of where my head’s at, then you can pick your words to me real carefully. Sound fair?”
Ryder’s Adam’s apple bobs with his gulp and he gives a shaky nod.
Dane continues. “The day Skylar was born, I held her in my arms and swore nothing or no one would ever take her from me. Well, tomorrow, a little boy who spent his whole life calling me ‘uncle’ is now gonna,” he scratches the back of his head, “ have to call me something else, because, you see, he’ll now be doing just that, taking her from me. Then proceeding to make babies with my first baby. And my son—” He leers at Ryder. “—is so concerned with my sanity, and me keeping it that he decided it’d be a good idea to lay it to one of the bridesmaids. Can’t tell ya how much I loved hearing that. I’m not stupid, I know he.” He stops short and shakes off the rest of the sentence. “Let’s just say I don’t need to hear about it. Which brings me to Brynn, I assume that’s whom you wish to discuss?”
Dane pauses to take a drink, pinning Ryder with that special brand of evil eye that only a father can give over the end of his glass. JT shifts in his chair, as do I, cause it’s getting damn uncomfortable around here. I can’t imagine how Ryder’s feeling… but if he goes for it, mans up and goes head to head with Dane he’ll have earned at least an ounce of my respect, and may just be worthy of a shot with Brynn.
When Ryder simply nods again, Dane goes on, this time with raw realization in his voice; and I really do feel for the man. “Brynn is my youngest, beloved baby girl, the last one that I have any real Daddy time left with. She’s only eighteen, never gives me an ounce of trouble and still hugs me and holds my hand in public. I never have to wonder where she is at night, because if I haven’t already checked in with her first, she calls or texts to let me know. And when she accomplishes something big, that she’s super proud of, I’m still the man she wants to tell first. Brynn’s always been too busy with academics, sports and her books she loves so much to worry about boys.” He takes a deep breath and damn if I don’t do the same. “When Brynn was born, her Nanabug brought her a pink teddy bear that rattles inside when you shake it to the hospital. That bear sits on her bed to this day.” He slowly raises his glass and drains what’s left of the amber liquid. “Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?”
