Page 86 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
“So,” Beau says. “Between Chicago, Boston, and Atlanta, which city would you pick for us?”
Now my stomach splats on the sidewalk.Chicago. Boston. Atlanta. Those places are all so far from Los Angeles. So far from Abieville. So far from everyone.
Including me.
“Where doIthink you and Kasey should move?” I swallow hard. “I don’t know. They’re all so different. But… Atlanta, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Beau chuckles and nods. “That’s what Brady predicted you’d say.”
ChapterThirty-Six
BRADY
“We need to talk,” Natalie says under her breath, “and I don’t think it can wait until after the wedding. So maybe tonight. After the rehearsal.” She nods at the stone walkway I’m leading her down. The path continues across the sand and stretches all the way to the wedding gazebo. We started at the top, just below the steps to the inn. Beau and the rest of the groomsmen are standing at the end on one side of the white archway. My mother’s behind us, holding a clipboard and barking out orders.
As per her very specific instructions, when Natalie and I reach the rest of the groomsmen, the maid of honor is supposed to break off and go to the opposite side where Kasey will eventually stand. Then, after Nat is situated, Daisy, the flower girl, and the bridesmaids will come down to join us one at a time. Finally, Kasey and my dad will take the long walk across the stones and sand to Beau.
I’ve got to say, I don’t think this is the normal process. But our family rarely approaches normal on a good day. And not-normal is what you get when Elaine Graham is your wedding coordinator.
“You’re walking too fast,” my mom crows from behind us. “Slow down, Brady! Pretend you’re waltzing. One step. Two steps. Breathe… and waltz.”
I don’t know how to waltz,and I don’t think my mother does either. But that doesn’t matter, becauseI’m in no hurry to reach the gazebo anyway. Not while Natalie and I are arm in arm, her body tucked into my side. This is the first moment all evening we haven’t been surrounded by members of the wedding party. Or by Mrs. Slater, all teary-eyed and sniffling. Or by my mom clucking orders at us.
“I agree,” I say under my breath.
“That we need to slow down? Or that we need to talk later?”
“Both. But mostly the talking. There’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“Somuch ground,” she says. I peer at her sideways, but she’s got her gaze locked on the gazebo. Then the side of her jaw tics. “Like Chicago,” she says. “Or Atlanta. Or Boston.”
“Kasey told you?” I let out a long breath of relief. “Finally!”
“Shhh.” Natalie squeezes my arm.
“Sorry,” I say through clenched teeth.
“That’s the perfect pace, kids!” my mother squawks at us from the steps of the inn. “One step. Two steps. Breathe… and waltz.”
“Beau spilled the beans before we came here,” Natalie continues in a low voice. “And I know that you’ve known for days.”
I groan. “I wanted to tell you. So, so much.”
“Yeah, I figured that out.” From the corner of my eye, I can tell Natalie is nodding. “I thought back and remembered a few moments. A hint here or there. But I’ll admit, at first, I was sick to my stomach, wondering why you hadn’t told me. My mind was all jumbled up, thinking the worst.”
“The worst?” I whisper. “Like what?”
“Like you knew one of the reasons I planned to move was to be closer to Beau and Kasey. And maybe you thought I’d change my mind if I knew they weren’t staying in LA. And maybe you didn’twantme to change my mind.”
I suck in air. A great big gulp. “Opposite of true.”
“I realized that pretty quickly. Those kisses were too real.” Her lips quirk on one side. “And you don’t mess around.” Suddenly she stumbles on a stone, so I pull my arm tighter around hers, drawing her closer. I want her to feel my strength. I want her to feel safe. I want Natalie to know I’d never let her fall.
“I kept hoping Beau or Kasey would bring it up,” I say. “But I couldn’t be the one.”
She nods again. “You’re a loyal friend. A loyal brother. Those aren’t flaws.”
“Thanks,” I manage to choke. The fact that Natalie sees the best in me—that she understands my intentions instead of jumping to conclusions—means everything.
