Chapter Twenty-Seven #3
“Big families have an energy all their own. I know you’re leaving Sunday, and I’m sure my son won’t want to give up time alone with you, but we’d love it if you’d join us for a family breakfast before you go. Even if you can only come for a little while.”
The thought of leaving saddens me, but I’m not going to let that ruin this amazing day. “I would love to.”
“Mom! Vic!” Bellamy hollers as she and Jules run into the water, splashing both of us.
We shriek with laughter. Margot kicks water at them, making them squeal and starting a full-on splash battle.
Our laughter is a battle cry, and before we know it, all the women are joining us, splashing and laughing.
Water flies at my face, and I lose my footing, stumbling backward.
I grab Keira’s arm, taking her down with me in a fit of hysterics.
“Sorry!” I say.
“No, you’re not,” she says, and we burst into laughter seconds before Leni and Shea tug us into deeper water, and we all tumble beneath the surface.
As we break the surface, finding our footing, our laughter filling the air, Lenore and a number of older Bra Brigaders take each other’s hands and lift them to the sky, shouting, “To the sisterhood!”
Cheers ring out as Keira and Leni take my hands and throw them up, shouting, “The baddest bitches on the island!” earning more whoops and shouts.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I say as we each tie a rope that has a hot dog secured to the other end, around our waist. We’re playing Swinging Weenies, one of many bachelorette-party games Abby and Jules have lined up for the afternoon.
“Don’t act like you’ve never had a wiener in your mouth,” Lenore says, and everyone laughs.
“Okay, listen up,” Jules announces. “The goal of the game is to swing your hips and catch the weenie in your mouth. If you touch it with your hands, you’re out.”
“No stroking the dog?” Keira yells, inciting more laughter.
Leni shouts, “No frank wanking? Boring!”
“My baby girl is getting married tomorrow. If she wants to wank a frank, more power to her!” Shelley hollers, and we double over in laughter.
“We taught these girls well,” Lenore says to Tara’s grandmother, and they high-five.
“All right, ladies. Listen up. The first one to catch a weenie in her mouth wins a prize,” Abby says. “Ready?”
“ Wait! Hold my hair,” I say to Keira, and everyone laughs.
“Do we have to swallow?” Randi asks, and we lose it, tears rolling down our cheeks.
When we finally stop laughing and they start the game, there is more hilarity as we cheer each other on, and the hot dogs smack us in the face and chest.
Someone yells, “Don’t use your teeth!” and someone else hollers, “That’s what he said.”
I swing my hips, and the hot dog hits me in the eye. “Ouch! It nearly put my eye out!”
“I hate it when that happens,” Margot says, and we all crack up again.
A motorboat roars behind us, and we all turn to look as it speeds toward shore and fishtails to a stop. Roddy’s at the helm, Steve is tossing out the anchor, and Alexander grabs a megaphone and says, “Margot, baby, what are you doing with a weenie when you’ve got a kielbasa at home?”
Laughter erupts anew, and Bellamy yells, “ Ew , Dad!” as the men jump off the boat and jog through the water to shore.
Margot plants a hand on her hip and says, “Alexander Silver, I expect this from our boys but not from you!”
He bolts out of the water in shorts and a T-shirt, showing off his athletic physique. He swoops Margot into his arms, says, “Then you don’t know me at all, baby!” and kisses the hell out of her.
We all cheer, and Keira yells, “Get a room!”
Roddy and Steve jog over to their wives and pull them into dramatic kisses, earning more cheers and a jealous sigh from me. I gasp as strong arms circle me from behind.
“I’ve got your weenie right here, sweet thing.”
Shivers of heat race through me as laughter and commotion erupt around us, and I see about a dozen guys running into the group as Wells turns me in his arms and says, “There you are,” and kisses me.
Something hard presses against my chest. I break the kiss and look between us. Laughter bubbles out. “Why are you wearing a coconut bra?”
“It’s the Bra Brigade, isn’t it?” We laugh, and I realize all the guys are wearing some kind of bra.
Leni’s voice cuts through the air. “Is that a Dora the Explorer backpack?”
“I told you I’d do whatever it took to find you.” Raz holds up binoculars and turns to show her the picture of Dora the Explorer on his backpack.
“You guys are nuts,” I say.
“Your brother led the charge.” Wells motions to Flynn, with his arm around Sutton. He’s wearing a black bra and has a compass and binoculars hanging around his neck and a map in his hand.
“Point me to the single ladies!” Fitz hollers, strutting around in a coconut bra and shorts.
“Yoo-hoo, Fitzy!” Lenore calls out, as she and a group of older ladies beckon him over.
Fitz makes a show of untying his coconut bra and tossing it to the sand as he saunters toward them. We all laugh.
Alexander waves as he and Margot head our way. I quickly try to untie the rope around my waist. “I can’t believe the first time I’m going to see your dad as your girlfriend I’ve got a weenie between my legs.”
Wells laughs.
“Now, that’s a great sight,” Alexander says, and claps a hand on Wells’s shoulder.
The knot is stuck, so I pull up the rope and say, “The embarrassing weenie dangling between my legs?”
Alexander’s laugh is deep and carefree. “I meant my son’s smile, but that weenie will make a great story to tell our grandchildren. It’s wonderful to see you again, Victory, with or without your weenie.”
He wraps his arms around me in a warm embrace, and I can’t help but laugh. “It’s nice to see you, too. I heard you and your buddies were the masterminds behind the island pranks.”
“We haven’t always been old fuddy duddies.” He drapes an arm around Margot.
“We are not fuddy duddies,” Margot insists.
“And we never will be.” Alexander leans down for a kiss.
“Jesus, you two,” Wells says. “It’s like watching teenagers. Get a freaking room.”
I take Wells’s hand and say, “Now I know where you get it from.” That earns a wolfish grin.
“You’re welcome,” Alexander says. “Are you ladies still playing with those weenies, or are we going to fire up the hibachis?”
An hour later the beach is teeming with people of all ages, and laughter and conversation fill the air.
Leni’s brothers Jock and Levi came with their children, and dozens of other Bra Brigade families did, too.
We roast hot dogs, eat coolers full of food, and toast to Leni and Raz’s upcoming nuptials, all while Tara, a photographer, stealthily captures the fun on film.
As the afternoon wears on, Wells and I play Frisbee with Fitz, Keira, and a handful of other friends, while kids dart around us. Jock shouts as he tackles Brant in a football game on the other side of the beach, and the people around them cheer.
“Heads up, Vic!” Fitz hollers as the Frisbee leaves his fingertips and flies in my direction.
“I got it!” I sprint to my right and jump up to catch the Frisbee. It bounces off my fingertips, but I catch it before it hits the ground.
“Yeah!” Wells shouts. “That’s my girl!”
I take a bow and throw the Frisbee to Keira, but it flies past her.
As she runs for it, I spot Margot and Alexander sitting in the sand.
Margot is holding Stevie, talking to him, I assume, as she touches his belly.
Alexander has his arm around her, and he’s looking at her like she’s his whole world.
I know she’s not. I’ve seen the way he looks at not just his kids, but all their friends, too.
What a feeling it must be to go through life with your best friend by your side.
I thought I lost my chance at having that.
“Hey, sugarplum,” Wells calls out, heading toward me with a devilish look in his eyes.
He wraps me in his arms, those dark eyes holding me captive.
I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have a second chance at love, but even more so, to have it with him.
I love his patience, his sense of humor, and the sexy beast he becomes when we’re alone.
Most of all, I love the way he loves me for who I am, flaws and all.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he coaxes.
“It’s going to cost more than a penny for today’s thoughts.”
A butterfly flies between us, hovering there like a beacon over our hearts, its delicate wings fluttering.
It flutters in place so long, I can’t look away.
It rises and lands on Wells’s shoulder. A warm, comforting breeze washes over me, lasting longer than a typical breeze.
Gently demanding my attention the way a long hug goodbye makes your thoughts slow down and take notice.
It feels like a sign. My pulse quickens, a lump forming in my throat.
Wells takes my hand and turns it over, brushing his thumb over the tiny butterfly tattoo on my wrist, as if he senses it, too. He lifts my wrist and presses a kiss to it. As his lips leave my skin, the warm breeze and the butterfly slip away like secrets.
Wells laces our fingers together, stepping closer, and whispers, “Save those thoughts, sweet girl. I know what’s in your heart.”