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I was moreshocked when Lenny told me she wanted to get married in August than I was when she told me she was pregnant. Not because I didn’t expect her to get married. She and Sebastian have been engaged for over a year. And truth be told, we all knew it was going to happen before he made it official. Lenny had no desire for a big, over-the-top Kingston wedding. The only person pushing for that was Max. I think the weight of being head of the family weighs on him more than we realize.
But even knowing she wanted something small and informal, I was still shocked when she announced she was getting married in August. While our lives may be our own, for most of us, they still revolve around football. And her husband is one of our best defensive ends.
With a bit of scheduling luck, though, she managed to pick that sweet spot in August. Our final pre-season game was last week, and our first home game of the regular season is next week. Apparently, this was the only Saturday that worked for Sebastian and Lenny as well as his two best friends, who both play for the Baltimore Sentinels.
And what does all this mean? It means I am eight and a half months pregnant, and even though the sun is setting, it’s still ninety degrees outside, and I’m melting. For now, Lenny, her best friend, Juliette, Amelia, and I are in Lenny’s old room, where it’s at least air-conditioned, while we wait for Max to tell us it’s time.
“You’ve still got time to run, Lenny Lou. I might not be able to move quickly, but I’m sure I could rustle up keys to a getaway car.” I seriously don’t move quickly anymore. I waddle. But I waddle in style, damnit. Even if the style is a little larger than it used to be.
Lenny gives me the finger, eliciting a laugh.
“Always keeping it classy, Len.”
A light knock sounds against the door before a little strawberry-blonde head pops in. “Scarlet... ?”
“Yeah, baby. Come here.” I hold my arms out for my girl.
“Daddy said to ask you if you had a rubber band for my hair. It’s really hot outside.” She wipes her little brow dramatically, then looks over at Lenny. “Wow... You look like a princess.”
She’s right. Lenny looks just like a princess. Her dark-brown hair is piled in curls on top of her head, and diamond stud earrings sparkle in her ears. A stunning, satin, strapless empire-waist gown that nips in under her chest with a light lavender ribbon accentuates her athletic frame.
No baby bump in sight for her yet.
It’s understated and elegant and perfectly suits my sister.
“Well, so do you, little miss.” Lenny bends over to give Brynlee a kiss, and my heart smiles.
“Wanna see the best part?” The excitement of the day is reverberating through Brynlee’s little body. “Look what happens when I twirl.” She spins in a small circle, and her pretty little white lace dress with a pale purple ribbon matching my sister’s spins out around her legs.
Lenny and Bash asked Brynlee, Madeline, and Declan and Annabelle Sinclair’s two daughters to be their flower girls. They didn’t want a big wedding party. Juliette is Lenny’s maid of honor, and Sam is Sebastian’s best man.
When Max knocks on the door and tells us it’s time, all thoughts of fixing hair are entirely forgotten. Instead, I pull my sister into my arms. “I love you, Lenny Lou. I’m in awe of the woman you’ve become. Your mother would be so proud.”
She wipes her eye. “Don’t make me cry now. I’ll ruin my makeup.”
I squeeze her hand, throw a smile Amelia’s way, and kiss Max on the cheek. Then I take Brynlee’s hand in mine and get her where she needs to be with the other girls and the wedding coordinator. “I’m going to go sit with Daddy. You be a good girl and listen to the coordinator, okay?”
Her curls bounce against her shoulders as she nods.
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you, Scarlet.”
When I sit down between Cade and Becket under the stunning white wedding tent adorned with twinkling lights, fresh flowers, and greenery, I can’t help but tear up even more than I already have.
It’s perfect.
I slip my hand in Cade’s and rest my head on his shoulder. “I love you, Saint.”
“Love you too, duchess.” His lips press against my head, and Becks gags.
After the ceremony ends and dinner and dancing begin, very few people actually sit back down. There are less than fifty of us here, and everyone is having a wonderful time. There’s been quite a baby boom happening in our world lately. Nearly all of Lenny’s friends are pregnant, but most of them aren’t showing yet. I wouldn’t have guessed this had Len not told me. But when my starting quarterback’s wife, Annabelle Sinclair, sits next to me, not as pregnant as me but still clearly pregnant, I start to wonder what exactly is in the water around here.
She mimics me and kicks her feet up onto a chair next to her, her long pale blue dress covering her legs, and a chubby little one-year-old boy asleep in her arms. Nixon no longer looks like the little baby he was at last year’s games. No. Now he looks like the son of our franchise quarterback. Big. Bulky. And like he’s going to tower over his father one day.
Annabelle turns to me once she’s settled, and a slow smile spreads over her face. “You know, I hated you when we first met.”
“Yeah.” I rub my stomach where I was just elbowed from the inside and think back to nearly four years ago. “At that political fundraiser. I remember.”
