Page 69 of All The Way Under
“It’s so good to finally meet you. Catherine and I were chit-chatting in the kitchen, and she shared all the gory details.”
Looking between us for a beat or two is normal. We are identical, but she seems to be puzzling over something.
Catherine comes out, setting the cheese board on the outdoor coffee table in between the sofas.
“Isn’t Saylor beautiful? I can’t get over it,” Catherine squeals. “Cheese and crackers are here. A pot of tea too. A peppermint and lavender blend. We should drink it in between alcohol. Unconventional, yes, but fun nonetheless.”
“Thank you,” Nolan and I say in unison.
Saylor just blushes furiously, the rose color creeping to her chest and neck.
Saylor grins at the unison, as most people do. The in-sync thing is hard to get used to.
“Now that everyone is here,” Nolan says. “Catherine and I have some news.”
A bead of sweat rolls down my brother’s forehead.
“We are getting married!” Catherine squeals, pulling her ring out of her jeans pocket and sliding it onto her finger. “We wanted everyone important to be together before we announced it.”
My heart jumps and my stomach sinks at the same time. This is incredible and foreign.
Nolan kisses Catherine, and Saylor claps her hands with joy.
“We didn’t want to spring marriage news on you,” Nolan says, gaze lingering on mine.
He’s still processing what I told him. He clears his throat.
“Happy news all around for everyone,” he adds, gaze darting between Saylor and me.
“This is a celebration,” Saylor wails, both arms in the air. Her joy is contagious, and I can’t help but smile at her. “We need champagne. Lots of it.”
Catherine pulls a bottle from behind a sofa cushion. “It’s probably a little warm, but we’re ready!”
“I’ll go get glasses and some ice,” Saylor replies, rushing to hug Catherine and then Nolan.
Nolan watches me watching her and shakes his head—that sly grin on his face. We have to do everything at the same time. That in-sync twin shit.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
saylor
Catherine looksup from bandaging a cut on Brody’s leg to meet my gaze. Her lips are in a firm, annoyed line, but her eyes are mirthful.
“But, like, maybe the tenth beer before the jet ski ride wasn’t the best idea,” she says, trying to get Brody to admit his fault. “Right?”
Good luck,I think.
Brody’s eyes are hooded and bloodshot. We’ve been having fun all afternoon, and now we’re sitting around the fire pit with rose hip tea and a man waxing poetic about where the leaves came from.
“Beer is never a mistake, Cat. You cannot make me say otherwise.”
I grin, tipsy myself, but at ease. I take a sip of the tea, letting it burn my lips, tongue, and throat.
“Do you like the tea?” he asks Catherine.
“I haven’t been able to enjoy it, Brody. I just finished sewing up Nolan’s finger before attending to this gory shin wound of yours. I still can’t make sense of what happened. Nolan threwyou off the jet ski, then cut his finger on a rock that sliced your leg as he dragged you back up?”
Brody shrugs.
