How to Train Your Groomzilla (My Big Fat Kingman Wedding #1)

The Helmet of Destiny

JULES

The Kingman family does not celebrate milestones like normal people. We compete. Board games, backyard football, for Nana’s chocolate chip pancakes. Everything turns into a blood sport. So when my brother Chris got engaged to the girl he’d been in love with for years, my first thought was: Finally.

But immediately after that?

Who’s going to be the best man, and how much chaos was this going to cause?

Chris had been keeping the plans, like the date, location, and wedding party very close to the chest. But Trixie said he had to let us all in or no one would actually be at the wedding.

I was gonna need popcorn.

And a plan.

We were all crammed into Dad’s living room, still riding the high from the Big Bowl win two weeks ago.

The confetti had barely been vacuumed out of everyone’s hair.

Chris stood in the front of the room looking every bit the captain of the team and the rest of my brothers were sprawled across every available surface like a pack of overgrown golden retrievers who’d just been told they were good boys.

Which, I mean. They kind of had been. Two weeks ago, seventy thousand people, plus the millions more on TV, had watched half of them win a championship. Now here they were, fighting over the last of the queso and arguing about whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

I loved them so much it was stupid.

“April eighth,” Chris said, grinning so hard I thought his face might crack. “Trixie wants a spring wedding at The Gentle Barnyard.”

“The donkey place?” Flynn asked, because of course that’s what he focused on.

“The animal sanctuary where she volunteers,” I said. “Where Luke Skycocker came from. You’ve been there like six times, Flynn.”

“I know, I just like saying ‘the donkey place.’ It’s funny.”

It really wasn’t, but Flynn’s commitment to his own bits was kind of endearing. He really thought I didn’t know about the girl he was gaga for and her donkey?

Trixie, tucked under Chris’s arm as he took a seat on the couch, just shook her head with that fond smile she got whenever my brothers were being particularly.

.. themselves. She’d been part of this family long enough to know that trying to have a serious conversation with all eight of us in the room was a contact sport.

“So,” Isak said, stretching his arms behind his head with that look he gets when he’s about to say something that’ll rile everyone up, “who’s gonna be the best man?”

And there it was. The gauntlet, lobbed casually into the middle of the coliseum.

Seven pairs of eyes swiveled to Chris. Even Dad looked up from his phone, and I swear I saw him settle back in his chair like he was ready to watch a show. Pop meet corn.

Here’s the thing about being the youngest of eight kids and the only girl, I’ve spent my whole life watching these boys.

I know all their tells. I know when Declan’s about to get defensive and when Hayes is about to retreat into himself and when the twins are silently plotting something with their telepathy.

I know that Chris, for all his confidence on the field, would rather throw himself into traffic than disappoint any of us.

And right now, my sweet, wonderful, family first big brother looked like a man who’d just been asked to choose his favorite child.

“I, uh—”

“It should obviously be me,” Declan said. “I’m the second oldest.”

“While there is logic in all of us just being the best man for the next in line.” He smiled like he had a secret, and I’d bet money it had something to do with Willa. “But there are important bonds of brotherhood to consider.”

“I shared a womb with Gryff for nine months.” Flynn spread his hands like this was irrefutable logic. “If anyone understands the bond of brotherhood—”

“That’s not how any of this works,” Everett interrupted. “And besides, I’m the one who gave Chris all the advice on how to finally get Trixie to notice him.”

“Your advice was ‘just tell her how you feel.’” Isak made a face that showed he thought feelings were plain gross. “That’s not advice, that’s a fortune cookie.”

“A fortune cookie that worked.” Everett rolled his head back on his neck, staring up at the ceiling like only a slighted middle child could.

I watched Chris’s face cycle through about fourteen emotions in three seconds. He wanted to make everyone happy, he always did. It was one of the best things about him, and also the thing that was about to give him an ulcer.

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “I haven’t decided yet. I need to think about it.”

“Think about it?” Declan’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s there to think about? You pick one of us, the rest of us are groomsmen, done.”

“It’s not that simple—“

Declan cracked his knuckles. “It is that simple. Unless you’re trying to say one of us matters more than the others.”

He didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I knew that, and so did everyone else in this room.

But I also knew that if we let this spiral, Chris would agonize over it for weeks, trying to find a solution that didn’t exist, while Trixie planned the whole wedding by herself and my brother stress-ate his way through Nana’s freezer stash.

Time for the baby of the family to save the day. Again.

“Okay, I have an plan.” I stood up, and every head in the room turned toward me.

I’d learned a long time ago that the only way to get a word in with seven older brothers was to just start talking like you expected everyone to listen.

“Chris shouldn’t have to pick. None of you should have to pick. We’ll draw names.”

Silence.

Then Hayes tilted his head. “Draw names? What is this, Secret Santa?”

“It’s fair,” I said. “Everyone writes their name on a piece of paper, throws it in a hat, and draws. Whoever you pick is your best man. Or best woman.” I pointed at myself. “Because I am absolutely not letting any of you limit me to traditional gender roles.”

“Jules, you don’t even have a boyfriend, much less engaged. You don’t need a best man or a man of honor or whatever.” Isak said, but he was grinning.

He knew I did have a boyfriend... but absolutely no one else did.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you’re engaged or anything.

Neither are Flynn or Gryff. But we’re still family, and Kingmans do everything together.

” I looked around at all of them, my giant, ridiculous, wonderful brothers.

“I don’t want to be left out just because I’m not getting married until I’m like seventy-two if it was left up to all of you.

And I know you guys don’t want to leave each other out either. ”

“She’s got a point,” Hayes said softly.

“She usually does,” Isak added, and I shot him a grateful smile.

Dad, who had been watching this whole exchange with the amused patience of a man who had survived raising eight children, finally spoke up. “I think Jules is onto something.”

“Dad—” Declan started.

“No, hear me out.” Dad set his phone down and leaned forward, and something in his expression shifted.

Got softer. “Your mother and I used to talk about what it would be like when you kids started getting married. Who would stand up for who, how we’d manage the logistics of eight weddings.

..” He paused, and I felt that familiar ache in my chest. The one that showed up whenever he talked about her.

“She would have loved this. All of you, together, figuring it out as a team, as a family.”

I glanced at Isak without meaning to. He was looking down at his hands, and I knew he was feeling the same thing I was.

..that strange grief for someone we never really got to know.

The others had memories of Mom. Real ones.

Isak and I just had stories, and photos, and moments like this where we felt her absence without ever having felt her presence.

But we had Dad. And we had each other. And honestly? That was more than enough.

“The drawing names idea means no one has to choose favorites,” Dad continued. “And it means you’re all in this together, for every wedding, for the rest of your lives.” He looked around at all of us, his eyes bright. “That’s what family is.”

“Alright,” Chris said, and the relief on his face was so obvious I almost laughed. “Let’s do it. But we need something to draw out of.”

“I’ll get a football helmet from the hall closet,” Hayes offered, already standing.

“And paper from the office,” Everett added.

Within minutes, we had a system. Eight slips of paper, eight names, one slightly scratched Big Bowl championship helmet that Gryff had accidentally sat on at the victory party. One by one, we folded our papers and dropped them in.

“Okay, rules,” I announced. “You cannot pick yourself. If you do, you put it back and draw again. No trading, no bribing, no blackmail.”

“What about light coercion?” Flynn asked, eyes twinkling.

“No.”

“Aggressive suggestions?”

“No, Flynn.”

“You never let us have any fun, Baby K.”

“I let you have appropriate amounts of fun. There’s a difference.” But I was smiling, and so was he. That was the thing about my family. We could give each other endless shit, but there was never any real bite to it. Just love, wrapped up in sarcasm. “Now. Groom goes first.”

I held out the helmet to Chris. He reached in, swirled his hand around dramatically, because God forbid a Kingman do anything without a little showmanship, and pulled out a slip. He unfolded it, and his face broke into a grin.

“Hayes.”

Hayes, who had been hovering by the bookshelf trying to look like he didn’t care, broke into the sweetest smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, buddy. You’re my best man.”

They hugged, that good kind of hug where they held on for a second longer than strictly necessary, and I felt my heart do something embarrassing and squishy in my chest. Chris had practically helped raise Hayes. Having him stand up at the wedding just felt right.

“Okay, who’s next? Declan, you and Kelsey are getting married in July. Your turn.”

Declan reached in and pulled out—

“Jules.” He stared at the paper, then looked up at me with this expression of genuine delight. “I got Jules.”

“Best Jules,” I corrected, trying not to let on how much this meant to me. “I’m going to be the best Best Jules you’ve ever seen.”

“Kelsey’s going to love this.” He was grinning now, wide and real. “Alright, princess, you’re standing up there with me.”

“Obviously. Someone has to make sure you don’t pass out at the altar.”

“I’m not going to pass out.” He smirked and shook his head.

“You cried during the proposal.”

“Those were manly tears of joy.”

We went around the room. Hayes pulled Everett and immediately looked panicked about Everett whispering the words “bachelor party.”

Everett pulled Declan, and I fully expected them to turn the whole bachelor party thing into some kind of elaborate competition. Isak pulled Chris, and the look on his face, like he’d just been handed something precious, made my throat tight.

Then it was the twins’ turn.

Flynn reached in first. Pulled out a slip. His face split into the most delighted grin I’d ever seen.

“Gryff.”

“No way.” Gryff snatched the helmet and shoved his hand in. His eyes went wide. “Flynn.”

“You definitely cheated,” Declan said.

“We didn’t cheat.” Flynn protested and threw an arm around his twin. “It’s fate. The universe knows we’re a package deal.”

“It’s suspicious is what it is.”

“It’s beautiful,” Gryff countered. “We’re cosmically connected.”

I squinted at both of them. They were absolutely capable of cheating, but I also couldn’t figure out how they would have pulled it off. “I’m letting it slide,” I decided. “But I’m watching you two.”

“You’re always watching us, Jules. It’s part of your charm.”

Finally, it was my turn. I reached into the helmet, felt around the remaining slip of paper, and pulled the one name out, I’d hoped to get all along.

Isak.

I looked up at my youngest brother. Technically I was the youngest by a couple of years, but I had been bossing him around since we were in diapers, and found him watching me with those hopeful greenish-hazel eyes.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” I said, holding up the paper.

He lifted his hand up for a knuckle bump. “Hell, yeah.”

“When I eventually find someone willing to put up with me forever, you’re going to be my Best Isak.” I tucked the slip into my pocket like it was something worth keeping. “And you’re going to take it very seriously.”

“I take everything seriously.”

“You have a FlipFlop dedicated entirely to ranking gas station snacks.”

“And I take it very seriously. It’s investigative journalism, Jules.”

“Sure it is.”

He threw an arm around my shoulders, tugging me into his side. Isak gave the best hugs, probably because he was built like a tree and ran approximately eight thousand degrees at all times. “This is gonna be great,” he said. “We’re gonna be the best best-people ever.”

“Obviously. We’re Kingmans.”

Dad stood up, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, it’s settled. Chris, Hayes, you two are up first.” He pulled Chris into a hug, and I watched my big brother lean into it.

For all that Chris was a celebrity, a champion, the face of the franchise, he was still just a kid who wanted to make his dad proud.

We all were, really.

“April eighth,” Dad said. “We’ve got a wedding to plan.”

Chris looked over at Trixie, who had been watching all of this chaos unfold with hearts practically visible in her eyes. She fit into this family like she’d always been here, because honestly, she kind of had been. She’d been loving Chris since before any of us understood what that meant.

“We’ve got a wedding to plan,” Chris repeated, softer, just to her.

And standing there in that living room, surrounded by my loud, competitive, fiercely loving family, I felt something settle in my chest.

This was just the beginning. Declan and Kelsey, had picked this summer, but still hadn’t released their actual date.

Hayes and Willa, and Everett and Penny still had to figure their plans out too.

And someday—way, way in the future—me and whoever was brave enough to take on the Kingman gang as in-laws.

But for now, it was Chris and Trixie’s turn. And with all of us behind them, and hopefully a very savvy wedding planner, it was going to be perfect.

Or at the very least, it was going to be memorable.

With this family, that was basically the same thing.