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My friends had always been my family. Soon I would be building a family of my own here in this town. I’d make the Lawton name something to be proud of, and the house that had held so many lies, hate, and darkness would be filled with the sounds of Willa’s laughter and our kids growing up happy and loved. They’d have all I didn’t have. The mother neither Willa nor I had been given.
“You gonna just stand here and look at it all?” Brady asked me as he walked toward me.
I shrugged. “Depends, you got a drink?”
He smirked, then pulled out a flask from inside his jacket. “I figured we might all need a swig. This being our first rodeo with this.”
I took the flask and took a swig, then handed it back. “We’ll be pros by the end of the year,” I told him.
“Damn right. How much longer you think it’ll be before the other three get hitched?” he asked.
I inhaled deeply and scanned the crowd for the others. “I figure Ryker is next. He’s gonna do some elaborate shit that makes the damn news.”
Brady laughed. “Nash will be after him. He’s not gonna let Tallulah get away a second time.”
“And then Asa will be last. He and Ezmita need more time. They wasted a lot of it over the years. We all knew they belonged together back then. It was fucking obvious.”
Brady turned to look back toward West and his mother, now walking over to the minister. “Looks like they are patching things up,” he said, nodding in their direction.
“About damn time,” I muttered.
“Have you heard from Willa? Do you know when they’re getting here? I tried calling Riley, and it went to voice mail.”
I had dropped Willa off at Brady’s mom’s early this morning. They’d had a day’s worth of preparing. “She texted an hour ago making sure I was getting ready, but that’s it.”
Brady’s parents drove up beside us then, and Bryony was in the backseat with some flowers in her hair. She was grinning at Brady. Never thought Brady would make such a great dad so young, but he did. He was everything my brother would never have been.
“Daddy!” Bryony squealed, seeing no one but him when she climbed out of the car wearing a white dress that was all fluffy and girly. “It’s almost time!”
Brady moved forward and picked her up for a hug.
Her gaze met mine then, and the smile on her face was the one that reminded me that I had some family with same blood. The Lawton smile on that little girl had alwaysreminded me that I wasn’t the only good Lawton in this world. She was the best, even if her last name would be Higgens. I was okay with that.
I had only missed a little less than two years of Bryony’s life. I still regretted it. My stupidity. I knew the pain that had caused me. I was doing all I could now to help Willa find a way to heal the same pain and regret I knew she felt over the time she’d lost with Bella. Watching them decorate Bella’s room at our house and listening to them talk on the phone brought me more joy than I realized possible. As I looked at Bryony, I understood it, and I knew how lucky Willa and I were to be given second chances in life with family.
BRADY
“You’re going to be a professional flower girl by the time you turn nine,” I told Bryony as I set her back down on her feet. If I wrinkled her dress, my mother would have my head.
“In Gunner’s wedding, I get to have a flower girl friend. We get to walk together. Willa promised we could have a playdate soon.”
Willa’s little sister was new to her world, but Gunner had said they had been visiting her often. She was trying to make up for lost time. Willa’s mother had passed away much quicker than they had expected, about two weeks ago. Gunner hadn’t said much about it other than Willa was working through it emotionally.
“You better learn the ropes, and then you can teach her,” Gunner said. “She’s younger than you.”
Bryony nodded her head and straightened her shoulders with the acknowledgment she was older. It gave her a sense of importance. She was growing up fast, and I wished time would slow down.
“Don’t you two look handsome,” Mom said as she got out of the passenger seat and began straightening Bryony’s hair.
“Thanks,” we both replied.
“Which one of you has the flask?” my dad asked as he walked around the car.
Gunner nodded his head toward me.
“Boone!” my mother scolded my dad.
“What? It’s a wedding—someone has a flask. Besides, it’s your son that has it. Scoldhim,” Dad replied, then held out his hand for the flask, which I put in it.
