Page 3 of More Than My Hometown

I look at him, waiting for there to be a follow-up question. One that is designed to get under my skin. Except nothing follows. Just a silence, with five pairs of eyes waiting on my answer. Eyes that I know love and support me, and have my back no matter what. Despite all the shit they might be giving me in this moment.

I swallow hard, looking between each one of my brothers. Our differences are staggering, even with all of us in matching tuxes. Still, deep down, they understand.

“No.” I shake my head. “I know on paper it makes sense, since she’s the town recreation coordinator and she likes all the same outdoorsy shit I do, which is great, because how often do you find someone who isn’t weirded out by that? But…but no. She’s not…”

She’s not Maisey.

A fact that I’m reminded of every time I look at her. Those sparkling blue eyes that Emily, Dolly, and Maisey all inherited from Mrs. Phillips, the town matriarch and the actual matriarch of their family.

A hush falls over the room, a damper put on the whole mood. Leave it to me to kill the entire thing. I should have kept my mouth shut. That would have been the better route to take. Usually is. I have a track record for opening my mouth and ruining everything.

After all, that’s exactly what happened with Maisey.

You’d think I’d have learned by now. Guess not.

Sucking in a deep breath, I lift my arm to take another swig of my beer, but am cut off by Hux damn near tackling me and wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. Easily the biggest of us, his lumberjack-esque frame is nothing to mess with and sends me stumbling back a step, trying to catch my balance again as I knock over a couple of chairs. At least we didn’t do any damage. Reverend Terry would have our asses.

“Right woman is out there,” Hux whispers, low enough so only I can hear, patting my back.

“Not really worried about it,” I choke out, trying to breathe, his arms still tightly embracing me. Making it even more awkward, my arm—beer still in hand—is caught between us. “Would like my arm back though.”

Hux chuckles, letting go and stepping back just enough to look me in the eye. The wave of emotion that washes over his face makes my heart squeeze, and I can tell that he knows exactly what I’m feeling. The ache that comes with knowing the one you want is one you can’t have. For Hux, it was because she was with someone else. For me, she’s simply the one who got away.

The one who more than ten years later, is who I see when I close my eyes. The one whose voice I hear when it’s just me out on the water or up in a hunting stand. Whose touch I think about—no, crave—when I’m all alone at night.

None of that matters now though. Because she’s not here. She’s somewhere far, far away, living her dream. Just like I’m living mine. Sort of.

“Hi hi!” my sister’s voice calls out as the door flies open.

Willa steps into the room, her sky-blue bridesmaid dress almost the same color as her eyes, looking at us like she expected to find a pack of hyenas. Smiling, she coos, her expression softening as tears fill her eyes.

“You boys really do clean up nice,” she says. “Almost makes one forget what a group of hellions you are.”

A former Miss Georgia—just like our mama—on the outside, our baby sister is the picture of grace. To those of us who know her, though, she’s also the walking, talking definition of spitfire, and will cut you like a razorblade, walking away before you even realize you’re bleeding.

“You want to be the pot or the kettle there, Wills?” Anton quips.

“I’m an angel. I don’t know what you’re referring to.” She smiles so sweetly, you’d almost believe her too. If you didn’t grow up with her.

“Ha!” Milo scoffs. “Funny, I seem to remember you causing plenty of trouble when you were sneaking around with⁠—”

“Shush!” she cuts him off with a snap of her fingers, and I stifle my laughter. Of all of us, Milo is the one she’s closest to, so he can get away with saying a lot. “Enough about me. It’s time to get Hux married.”

“That line didn’t work for me,” I mutter.

“That was fifteen minutes ago,” Hux says. “I’m allowed upstairs now.”

“You know, if you get too nervous, I’m happy to kiss the bride for you,” Jace quips, getting in one last jab.

“That won’t be happening,” Hux declares, the rest of us laughing at Jace.

Hux barrels past us, not caring who or what might be in his way, determined to get this show on the road. Can’t blame him there—today has been a long time coming and he is ready for that forever to start. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anton fist-bump Jace, the two of them clearly up to something. Should have known Jace didn’t come up with that one on his own.

Willa shakes her head, laughing as she turns to go, the remainder of us following her up the stairs to the lobby of Hickory Hills Baptist. The soft hum of the guests already seated fills the air, heightening the buzz of the moment. If you weren’t feeling the electricity already, you are now.

“Ready for this?” Emily asks, lining up next to me.

“Just like we practiced. No tripping down the aisle. Got it.”

“We got this.”

“We do.”