Page 92 of How to Say I Do
Noël drew back. His eyes searched mine, and his lips parted, but before he could speak, Dean and Charlie, rancher friends of my father’s—and now of mine—appeared beside us, boisterous and beaming and congratulating me on everything I’d accomplished. Noël leaned into my side, and the conversation moved on to ranching things, to weather and hay and small-town gossip, and then an invite to Noël to join with everyone on the next deer hunt.
“Oh, thank you so much,” Noël said, hand to his chest and a strained, polite smile stretching his cheeks. “You know, I’veneverbeen. I’m not sure I’d be any good—”
“We’ll teach ya.” Charlie thumped Noël on the back hard enough to knock him forward half a step. “Some camo, a little bit of face paint, and you’ll be good to go.”
Noël flashed his professional smile. I cemented my lips together before the guffaw broke free. What would Noël say when he learned that deer urine was an essential part of camouflage, and so was waking up at three a.m. to be in the blind before dawn?
The party rolled on. Everyone had one more glass of my father’s last wine before we re-corked the barrel. The rest would be bottled. Maybe I’d sell it, but maybe I’d keep it local for all of us to share when we wanted to remember Dad.
Savannah and I brought out bottles of Baby Boy and Saddle Song. Trish had been in charge of curating the music and plugging in the iPod, and, judging by the packed dance floor, she’d done a damn fine job. Country swing shifted into line dancing, which slipped into Garth Brooks love songs, and then back to Willie and Waylon. Then there was another square dance, and I dragged Noël out to teach him how to heel-toe and do-si-do. He was hopeless, more giggles than dance moves, and we laughed through song after song, determined to get one right. By the time we did, we had a cheering section, and they clapped to the heavens when we electric slid into victory. I twirled Noël into a dip-kiss—he shrieked—and then I kissed him as he clung to my arms.
When Keith Whitley’s “When You Say Nothing At All” came on, we danced the way we had in Mexico. Cheek to cheek, body to body, me singing the lyrics into his ear as his thumb circled the small of my back. This was my dream and my wish come true. I’d wanted to bring Noël here, beneath the oak branches and the stars that my father and I used to share. I had a thousand memories of my dad and me here. Now I had new memories to share space with the old: Noël and I dancing in the same dust, loving each other as deeply now as I’d been loved back then.
Honestly, I was shocked I lasted as long as I did. The past week had been arduous, and this afternoon had been a personal crucible I’d only survived because Noël was beside me. Now, the night wrapped around me, too huge, too full, and too wonderful. I’d felt my dad again, and nothing could empty out the fullness of my heart. The world was bright and beautiful and shimmery, and my last glass of wine had gone down like honey. By and by, the glow of the lights gathered in my irises, and the warmth of the wine I was drinking stayed in my cheeks.
Liam and Noël converged on me. They were obviously having a grand ol’ time. Noël looked like he had a secret buried inside him that he’d only share after a dozen rounds ofpretty please. Liam was long-limbed and loose, like all of his joints had more joints and he was made up of Slinkies. They were both beautiful. The scatter of light across Noël’s smile, the flush suffusing Liam’s cheeks.
I spun Noël until his back was tucked into my chest and rested my chin on top of his shoulder. His hat was long gone. Earlier, I’d seen it hanging off the end of my stairs. He’d casually flung it there without a second thought, and the sight of it had hit me like a truck. It was such a simple thing, but it had wrapped around my heart and refused to let go. To be so comfortable in a place he could sling his hat around.Home. He’s at home here.
My own hat was barely on my head. Noël reached around to grab it before it tumbled, and I nibbled on the inside of his bicep.
Liam looked at me like I was the funniest man he’d ever seen. “You good, bro?”
“Mmm.”
Savannah had a sleepy Jason on her hip and was dancing with him, and I wanted to dance some more with Noël, too. My feet weren’t entirely cooperating, though, and Noël was carrying a little more of my weight than I realized.
Noël clutched my sides. “Looks like it’s time for Mr. Life of the Party here to hit the hay.”
Liam chuckled. “I’d say you’re right.”
Everywhere I looked, the people I loved were laughing and dancing and having a grand time. The hardest work of the season was behind me. Noël was here and in my arms, and the way he was guiding me toward the house—doing the kindergarten-dinosaur-double-footed lurch—felt close enough to dancing to make me giddy. I hummed again, some jumbled combination of Frank Sinatra and Johnny Cash, and pressed a messy kiss to Noël’s temple.
Noël danced me up the porch and into the kitchen, where Liam made me drink glass after glass of water. In between each refill, I wanted to rhapsodize, or philosophize, or sing a new song. Noël sat on the island and hooked one ankle around my thigh, hilariously smug about how hard Liam was working to get that water inside of me.Yes, Wyatt, I agree, the barn is the best it’s ever looked. Yeah, you told me it was Noël’s idea. No, I’ve never heard Hank Williams rapped in the style of Jay-Z. How about you drink another glass of water and then sing that for us?
I stroked Noël’s calf and smiled as I chugged. My chin ended up wet, and Liam threw a long-suffering look at Noël.
“Come on, cowboy.” Noël took my hand after three glasses went down the hatch. “Let’s pour you into bed.”
“Need help?” Liam offered.
“I’ve got him—”
“You got me, babe!” I sang, butchering both the lyrics and the melody. I grabbed Noël’s hand and tried to spin myself into him, but the edge of the refrigerator caught my shoulder and I had to abort. Instead, I flattened my back against the fridge and pressed my palms to the stainless steel. “It was good tonight, wasn’t it? With Dad?”
Liam’s face got all twisty, and he looked out through the windows to the party still in full swing. It took him a long time to answer. “I think you needed this, Wyatt. More than any of us ever realized.”
He hauled me into a hug, not one of our usual brother hugs or our big back-slappers, but a full body embrace, all of him pressed into all of me. “I love you,” he said. “So fucking much. You deserve the whole world, you hear? The whole fuckin’ world.”
There was too much wine and exhaustion inside me to find the right words to explain to Liam that with him and Noël in my kitchen, and this year's grapes off the vine, and the ranch all dolled up in falling stars, and with everyone I knew joyful in my yard, my world was complete. My whole world and all the beautiful things within it were here already. Jason laughing, Peanut regal and prim in her paddock, sneaking food from the guests and farting merrily, my fields at peace, and my family comfortable and content. And Noël, my Noël, here.
Too many words. Too much wine. I kissed Liam noisily on his cheek and clapped my hands around the back of his neck.
Liam took my arm and draped it over Noël’s shoulders. “Holler if you need help.”
“I’ve got the big guy,” Noël said.
I preened. Big guy. Sounded good.
