Page 56 of Seein’ Red

I roll my eyes, huffing out an exasperated sigh. I love my brother—I love all of them—but I wish Milo would realize that he’s been too singularly focused for too long.

“That’s everything, right?” Nash asks, stealing my attention away before I can snark back at Milo.

I look around again, taking a mental inventory. Nash and I were charged with rehearsal dinner setup, while Noel and Bronwyn were tasked with reception tent setup over in the field next to the library.

“Should be. Tables, chairs, linens, silverware,” I count out. “Only waiting on the centerpieces. Which should be here soon.”

“Good. Then we have some time to break in the dance floor.”

Grabbing my hand, Nash doesn't leave me any room to argue. I’m out on the floor, his arms around me, before I can blink. Not that I have any objections.

Tapping away at his phone, he pulls up a shared playlist, switching over the music from my “get hyped” mix to something slower. Something made for holding your girl close.

Which is exactly what he does.

Our bodies press together, our stance all wrong for an actual two-step. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters other than the way he’s making my pulse race. How his hand on the small of my back feels good. Like it belongs there. Like we belong like this.

Tightening his grip, Nash starts to move. Slowly, surely, eyes locked on mine. Everything fades away, the clink of the glasses at the bar melting into the music, forming a bubble around us.

I let myself get lost in him, in us. Wanting to enjoy this moment for what it is. A continuation of yesterday. The two of us righting ourselves with the other.

Something flashes in his eyes like there is something he wants to say, but he holds back.

Instead, he starts to sing.

Softly, so only I can hear, he croons along with Shenandoah. As if it’s his own personal apology, wondering if he really did have two dozen roses and an older bottle of wine, if I would forgive him. My heart cracks, emotion bubbling up, getting caught in my throat. I can feel everything that is radiating off him—all the love, hurt, and remorse that has been bottled up for years. The same love, hurt, and remorse that I feel.

Nash leans down, stealing a kiss. His lips are strong but gentle, like he’s sharing a secret. One that only I can understand. One that I hear loud and clear.

“Willa,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against mine. “About before…”

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.” I swallow hard, trying to tamp down all the feelings that are threatening to spill over. This moment is perfect. I don’t want to ruin it by dredging all that up.

His eyes flash again, whatever it is that he’s holding back still hovering under the surface. “If that’s what you want, but⁠—”

“I do.” I cut him off, nodding furiously. “Fresh start. Here and now. We’re in this together, right? So, this is it. The new start of us.”

“The new start of us,” he repeats.

Pulling me into him even more, he kisses me. Hard. Like he’s sealing that promise with a kiss. A promise never to be broken.

Nash and me against the world.

Or well, him and me and baby makes three. So the three of us against the world. Our own little family.

My tummy flips, and I can’t tell if it’s the thought of us being a family or Nash’s kiss that is to blame. Maybe both. All I know is that for the first time in almost a week, I’m not scared of what is coming, but excited.

“Hey you two, you gonna come up for air?” Milo hollers, cutting through the moment.

We pull back, both of us blushing, our lips swollen. I turn to look at my brother, scowling and sticking out my tongue. Because that’s what little sisters do.

“Don’t give me that look,” my brother taunts. “I’m not the one sucking face in the middle of someone else’s bar.”

“We were not sucking face!”

“Except you were.”

Nash snickers behind me, reaching around my midsection and tugging me into him so my back is against his front. “We kinda were.”