More Than My Hometown (Hayes Family #5)

Chapter 1

EWAN

How does that eighties song go? It’s a perfect day for a white wedding? Something like that.

And today is the absolutely perfect day for Dolly McLain’s wedding. Which I suppose is also my older brother Hux’s wedding. Although is any wedding ever about the groom? Not one I’ve ever been to.

This one isn’t the exception either. This is Dolly’s wedding. Her real wedding. The perfect, happily-ever-after, ride off into the sunset wedding that she deserves. It's a year later than the one that didn’t happen, but this is it. This time it’s for real.

This time it’s to Hux.

How it should have been to begin with. Something we all know, but are keeping our mouths shut about, because there are just some things that don’t need to be said out loud. Especially on one’s wedding day.

“About damn time you wifed her up,” Anton, brother number three in the lineup says, smacking Hux on the back.

Okay, maybe Anton is saying things out loud.

Once the instigator, always the instigator…

Hux raises a single eyebrow, glaring back at him in the mirror of the small room my five brothers and I are shoved in while we wait for the guests to arrive at the church.

Everything goes still, none of us moving, with only the hum from the vent in the background as we wait for Hux’s reaction.

It’s a line we’ve all heard a hundred times come out of Anton’s mouth trying to get a rise out of Hux, who as the middle of seven kids is about as stereotypical as they come—stubborn, nonconforming, and complicated—but he’s also steady and unflappable.

Something Anton loves to try and mess with.

“It is, isn’t it?” Hux laughs.

Tension dissipates instantly, all six of us bursting into laughter.

“You owe me fifty bucks, by the way,” Milo, brother number two, says to Hux, cracking open a Southern Brothers Party Mode and handing it to him.

Hux takes the bottle, his expression turning curious, asking the same silent question the rest of us are.

Milo doesn’t answer him right away, simply continues to play bartender—a role he knows well as owner and operator of Southern Brothers Brewing with his best friend Brandt Rawlins—handing us each a bottle from the cooler he snuck into the church.

“Care to explain?” Gus, our oldest brother, finally prompts after a long moment of silence.

“I bet Brandt when we opened Southern Brothers who would be the first to get married, and it wasn’t Hux.

” Milo shrugs, plopping down into one of the folding chairs set up in a semi-circle.

Reverend Terry clearly didn’t put a lot of effort into making sure we were going to be comfortable as we waited.

“He guessed Hux and Dolly?” Anton questions, not bothering to hide his skepticism. Which is totally fair, since it’s not like they were a couple back then.

Milo shakes his head. “Naw, he guessed Ewan and Mai—”

He stops himself before he says her name, but it doesn’t matter. I still hear it. My brain still automatically finishes it.

Maisey…

“But since I didn’t guess Hux, I gotta pay up.”

I swallow hard, shifting my weight, trying to pretend like his almost slip of the tongue doesn’t affect me. Like I’m not thinking about her. Like I haven’t been pretending not to think about her all week. Wondering if she’ll show at the last minute—be a surprise guest at her cousin’s wedding.

Especially since I’m technically here with someone else.

Even if that someone else is just a friend.

To be fair, that’s all Maisey was too. Sort of.

Because there isn’t a word for what she and I were—this weird in-between of more than friends but not exactly more than friends.

We were each other’s person in every way, but never crossed that line of physical intimacy that comes with that second part.

Not for lack of want to on my part, but for lack of guts to try.

I’ve wondered damn near every day for more years than I can count if I should have tried.

Emily Barrowcliff, though, is one hundred percent friend, without any thought of crossing that line.

From either of us. Although, these last six months, it’s been a lot of fun to let our small town of Hickory Hills think otherwise.

If for no other reason than it’s meant no one has asked either one of us embarrassingly personal or prodding questions in places like the grocery store.

“I don’t see how that’s Hux’s problem,” I say, joining in so that no one accuses me of being too quiet.

Problem with being the family introvert is that after a while if you don’t contribute, they force you to. Which only makes it worse.

“Because he’s the reason I have to pay up,” Milo responds, a silent duh at the end of his sentence.

“Still doesn’t make sense.” I shake my head, letting it go, since I know there won’t be any logic to it.

“Love doesn’t always make sense, baby bro,” Jace, the brother one up from me coos, as if he knows anything about it. Which he does not. He’s as single as I am.

In fact, of the seven of us, Jace and I—numbers five and six respectively—are the last two single Hayes kids standing.

One by one our siblings have paired off, starting with our younger sister, Willa, with her now husband, Nash, which led to Milo falling for his fiancée, Brenna.

Then Gus met his fiancée, Margeaux. Hux and Dolly—well, their story was decades in the making.

Most recently, Anton even managed to find his match in Sawyer, proving there really is a lid for every pot.

“Like you have any room to talk, Jace,” Gus quips. “Those books you litter the coffee table with don’t make you an expert on anything.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t picked up a tip or two from them, August,” Milo teases, leaning back against the folding table, his trademark smirk plastered in place.

Gus rolls his eyes, his own trademark scowl fighting back. He has a point though—just because Jace is the family wild card who isn’t shy about his non-guilty pleasure of reading romance novels doesn’t make him an expert on love.

“’Specially since Ewan has a date to this event, and you don’t.” Hux points his beer bottle at Jace.

“What’s your point?” Jace shrugs.

“That later tonight, after spending the evening hanging out and dancing with a beautiful woman, he has the chance at going home to something other than his right hand,” Anton explains.

“It’s only Em.”

My response is immediate, reflexive. Almost too much so. Because the second I say it, I almost feel guilty.

And my brothers are right there to call me on it.

“You say that, but you two sure have been spending a lot of time together lately…” Gus says, no doubt fishing for something.

I don’t take the bait though. I’m not a trout.

“Gus…” Milo warns.

Thanks, Milo…

“What?” Gus claps back. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

He’s not wrong. I’m still not taking the bait though.

“It’s Hux’s wedding. We should be focused on him,” I say, deflecting again.

I’ve gotten good at deflecting. Comes from years of practice as not only the youngest brother and the family introvert, but also from years around the boardroom table with them.

Because they aren’t just my brothers; we’re also the executive arm of Hayes Industries, the Fortune 500 company that our family has owned and operated out of our rural Georgia town since the 1800s.

What started off as two blacksmiths making guns turned into crops and now is a major corporation, employing the majority of Hickory Hills, covering industries including guns and ammo, a paper mill, agriculture, a brewery, personal safety, and my bait and tackle shop.

Our father, Auggie, is currently at the helm, although Gus is now executive vice president, so we’re all not-so-secretly expecting a retirement announcement out of the old man any day now.

My money is on shortly after the first pregnancy announcement from one of the three couples getting married this year. The second our parents are going to be grandparents, that is going to become their full-time focus.

Hux shrugs, glancing at his watch. “I still got twenty minutes until I’m allowed upstairs. Besides, I don’t think it would be the worst thing in the world for my bride to have one of her best friends and cousin end up with my brother. Just sayin’.”

Just sayin’…right…

I heave out a sigh, throwing my head back. Apparently we are going to have to go over this again. Despite my having discussed this—at length—with both Hux and Milo before.

Not to mention, Em isn’t the only one that description fits…

“It’s not like that.” I take a long swig of my beer, letting the crisp taste flow over my tastebuds.

“Look, I’ve told y’all—Em is great. We all know this.

She and I have a lot of fun together, and yes, we’ve been spending a lot of time together since Willa’s wedding last summer, but it’s just not like that. ”

Don’t get me wrong. Emily is a beautiful woman. With her family’s trademark blonde hair, blue eyes, and a fun smile, someday she is going to make someone very happy. That someone simply isn’t me.

“Could it be though?” Anton asks, his normal button-pushing tone missing.

I look at him, waiting for there to be a follow-up question.

One that is designed to get under my skin.

Except nothing follows. Just a silence, with five pairs of eyes waiting on my answer.

Eyes that I know love and support me, and have my back no matter what.

Despite all the shit they might be giving me in this moment.

I swallow hard, looking between each one of my brothers. Our differences are staggering, even with all of us in matching tuxes. Still, deep down, they understand.

“No.” I shake my head. “I know on paper it makes sense, since she’s the town recreation coordinator and she likes all the same outdoorsy shit I do, which is great, because how often do you find someone who isn’t weirded out by that? But…but no. She’s not…”

She’s not Maisey.

A fact that I’m reminded of every time I look at her. Those sparkling blue eyes that Emily, Dolly, and Maisey all inherited from Mrs. Phillips, the town matriarch and the actual matriarch of their family.

A hush falls over the room, a damper put on the whole mood. Leave it to me to kill the entire thing. I should have kept my mouth shut. That would have been the better route to take. Usually is. I have a track record for opening my mouth and ruining everything.

After all, that’s exactly what happened with Maisey.

You’d think I’d have learned by now. Guess not.

Sucking in a deep breath, I lift my arm to take another swig of my beer, but am cut off by Hux damn near tackling me and wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug.

Easily the biggest of us, his lumberjack-esque frame is nothing to mess with and sends me stumbling back a step, trying to catch my balance again as I knock over a couple of chairs.

At least we didn’t do any damage. Reverend Terry would have our asses.

“Right woman is out there,” Hux whispers, low enough so only I can hear, patting my back.

“Not really worried about it,” I choke out, trying to breathe, his arms still tightly embracing me. Making it even more awkward, my arm—beer still in hand—is caught between us. “Would like my arm back though.”

Hux chuckles, letting go and stepping back just enough to look me in the eye.

The wave of emotion that washes over his face makes my heart squeeze, and I can tell that he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

The ache that comes with knowing the one you want is one you can’t have.

For Hux, it was because she was with someone else.

For me, she’s simply the one who got away.

The one who more than ten years later, is who I see when I close my eyes. The one whose voice I hear when it’s just me out on the water or up in a hunting stand. Whose touch I think about—no, crave—when I’m all alone at night.

None of that matters now though. Because she’s not here. She’s somewhere far, far away, living her dream. Just like I’m living mine. Sort of.

“Hi hi!” my sister’s voice calls out as the door flies open.

Willa steps into the room, her sky-blue bridesmaid dress almost the same color as her eyes, looking at us like she expected to find a pack of hyenas. Smiling, she coos, her expression softening as tears fill her eyes.

“You boys really do clean up nice,” she says. “Almost makes one forget what a group of hellions you are.”

A former Miss Georgia—just like our mama—on the outside, our baby sister is the picture of grace. To those of us who know her, though, she’s also the walking, talking definition of spitfire, and will cut you like a razorblade, walking away before you even realize you’re bleeding.

“You want to be the pot or the kettle there, Wills?” Anton quips.

“I’m an angel. I don’t know what you’re referring to.” She smiles so sweetly, you’d almost believe her too. If you didn’t grow up with her.

“Ha!” Milo scoffs. “Funny, I seem to remember you causing plenty of trouble when you were sneaking around with—”

“Shush!” she cuts him off with a snap of her fingers, and I stifle my laughter. Of all of us, Milo is the one she’s closest to, so he can get away with saying a lot. “Enough about me. It’s time to get Hux married.”

“That line didn’t work for me,” I mutter.

“That was fifteen minutes ago,” Hux says. “I’m allowed upstairs now.”

“You know, if you get too nervous, I’m happy to kiss the bride for you,” Jace quips, getting in one last jab.

“That won’t be happening,” Hux declares, the rest of us laughing at Jace.

Hux barrels past us, not caring who or what might be in his way, determined to get this show on the road.

Can’t blame him there—today has been a long time coming and he is ready for that forever to start.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Anton fist-bump Jace, the two of them clearly up to something.

Should have known Jace didn’t come up with that one on his own.

Willa shakes her head, laughing as she turns to go, the remainder of us following her up the stairs to the lobby of Hickory Hills Baptist. The soft hum of the guests already seated fills the air, heightening the buzz of the moment. If you weren’t feeling the electricity already, you are now.

“Ready for this?” Emily asks, lining up next to me.

“Just like we practiced. No tripping down the aisle. Got it.”

“We got this.”

“We do.”