CHAPTER 32
Taking a long pull of the root beer Brock had handed her, Beth relished the way it fizzed and tickled her throat. She hadn’t realized how hungry—or thirsty—she was until that first sip. Leaning against the counter, she took another satisfying drink and let her gaze drift to the two brothers.
They shared the same chocolate-brown eyes, though Brock’s were a shade darker. His hair was longer, darker, and just as wavy. Where Bryce carried a quiet intensity—even in his most playful moments—Brock radiated something lighter. Easy. Warm. Like sunshine after a storm.
Beth grabbed a slice of pizza and chewed thoughtfully, choosing to listen instead of join in.
“…I swear it was at least an eight-foot barrel,” Brock was saying. “Dropped in clean, carved left, and just rode it all the way through.”
Bryce chuckled. “No one saw it, right? Convenient.”
“Dude, come on,” Brock laughed. “I’ve got the GoPro footage. I’ll show you later.”
Their voices blended into the hum of the loft—easy, rhythmic, the kind of brotherly banter that didn’t ask anything of her. Beth leaned her hip against the counter, the cool surface grounding her, the warm pizza settling the last bit of unease in her stomach.
Bryce reached past her for another slice, his arm brushing hers.
His fingers grazed the back of her hand, and then, without pause, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple absentmindedly.
He didn’t say anything, just took his spot beside her and leaned on the counter, letting Brock’s surf camp story wash over them.
She didn’t catch all of it—something about jellyfish and a runaway board—but Bryce chuckled under his breath, and the sound vibrated through her shoulder where they touched.
Without meaning to, she leaned into him.
The realization came quietly even earlier, when she’d been upset—hurt, really—and his presence had steadied her.
Even though he was the one who caused the ache, he still kept her from unraveling.
When he’d offered to check into a hotel, the idea had shaken her more than she expected.
She meant what she’d said—she believed in marriage.
In forever. Not working things out hadn’t even crossed her mind.
Somewhere between Brock’s laughter and Bryce’s quiet warmth, her body began to give in. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer, and her head found his chest.
“You’re about to fall asleep on your feet,” Bryce murmured near her ear, voice low and affectionate.
Beth gave a slow nod, her eyes already drifting closed.
Bryce turned back to his brother, but Beth gave herself a small shake and eased out of his arms.
Stepping forward, she wrapped Brock in a quick hug.
“I’m really glad I got to meet you, Brock.” She stepped back with a grin. “Even if the best literary minds would struggle to put into words just how incredibly awkward it was.”
They laughed—easy, shared relief breaking the last of the tension.
“Awkward or not, hashtag worth it,” Brock said with a wink, slinging an arm around his older brother’s shoulders and giving him a playful jostle.
“I’ve prayed for years that God would send a godly woman into this guy’s life to knock him back on course.
Stoked I finally get to meet the answer to those prayers. ”
Beth’s smile widened, her cheeks tinting pink when her gaze collided with Bryce’s.
“Will you be able to stick around for a while?”
“Nah, I’ve gotta jet in the morning. But I’ll be here for the wedding. Wouldn’t miss it. You work tomorrow?” he asked.
Beth nodded through a yawn. “Yeah. Another ten-hour shift. I leave early.”
She offered an apologetic shrug, followed by a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Long day. And tomorrow’s probably going to be just as crazy.”
“No worries. Get some sleep,” Brock said, catching the cue and giving them space as he wandered toward the couch with a root beer in hand.
“I’ll walk you up,” Bryce said, already beside her, holding the trail of items she’d scattered across the loft earlier. The memory alone was enough to make her blush again, causing both brothers to smirk, for an entirely different reason.
Brock chuckled from the couch. “Don’t take too long saying goodnight. Or do. Newlyweds, and all.”
Bryce rolled his eyes and placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the stairs. Neither of them said a word as they slipped into the soft quiet of the loft’s second level, moving together toward the room she slept in.
Bryce set her belongings down just inside the door and took his time closing the door. Beth watched him, her body still and quiet.
When he leaned back against the door and lifted one finger to beckon her forward, she hesitated—just for a moment. Then she crossed the room and walked into the circle of his open arms, resting her head against his chest.
“Good night, babe,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
He didn’t move. Didn’t let go. He simply stood there, gently rubbing her back. Beth tilted her face up to look at him—and found him already watching her.
There was a vulnerability in his eyes she hadn’t expected. A depth of pain she hadn’t considered. She’d been so focused on how his past affected her... she’d forgotten that he had to live with it too. That he felt shame over it.
“Will you read Psalm 25 before you go to bed?” she asked softly, her fingertip tracing the edge of his jaw.
Bryce caught her hand and held it to his cheek, leaning into her palm. His stubble scratched lightly against her skin as he nodded.
“Elizabeth, about earlier—”
Beth slid her hand across his face and pressed it gently over his mouth, silencing him.
“You don’t have to apologize again,” she whispered. “I know you take our vows seriously. I believe you.”
He kissed her palm, smiling. “I’m glad you know that. But that’s not what I was going to say.”
She dropped her hand, puzzled.
“Elizabeth…” He paused, his smile turning playful. “About earlier—before we talked about my past. Holding you on the couch. Touching you. Kissing you. Hearing you say you loved me... that was the best moment of my life.”
He met her eyes, voice turning quiet again.
“Right before you asked to finish the conversation, I was thinking how amazing it felt to not only have you—but to hold you. Freely. As my wife. I’m praying we can work back to that again. To that kind of ease. That kind of closeness. I look forward to the day you’ll say those words again.”
“Oh, Bryce,” she breathed. “Our conversation didn’t change that. I may not have liked what I heard... but I don’t fall in and out of love that easily. You’re it for me.”
Bryce pulled her in tight, holding her with a fierce
tenderness.
“Do you want to do something to celebrate our pregnancy?” he asked softly after a beat.
“Oh. I don’t know,” Beth said honestly. “Right now, I just want to celebrate with a good night’s sleep. I’m having a hard time thinking beyond that. I don’t want to announce it—even to our parents—until after the wedding.”
“Fair enough. I’ll plan something small for just us, and keep it quiet until later.” Bryce smiled gently. “Are you excited?”
“Overwhelmed would be a better word for what I’m feeling right now,” Beth admitted.
“In that case,” he said, brushing her cheek with his knuckle, “will you read Psalm 61 before bed?”
“I will,” she promised.
He kissed the tip of her nose, then forced himself to let go, stepping out of the room before he changed his mind.
Beth didn’t bother changing or brushing her teeth. She just climbed into the big bed, curling up beneath the covers, and reached for her Bible on the nightstand. She cradled it against her chest for a moment and closed her eyes in prayer.
She meant to pray. She meant to read.
But her eyelids fluttered shut... and stayed that way.
In the morning, she wouldn’t remember if she had whispered a single word to God—or if she’d fallen asleep the second her lashes touched her cheeks.
“Spill,” Brock said the moment Bryce came down the stairs. He was leaned back against the couch, root beer in hand, wearing a knowing grin. “There’s more to this marriage than you’re letting on.”
Bryce raised a brow, cautious. “What do you mean?”
Brock snorted. “What do I mean? Dude. Brah. You might’ve tried to push me away back when you threw your tantrum and ghosted God—but I’ve known you since you wore socks with sandals, thought AXE body spray was a personality trait, and cried when your gel-spiked hair didn’t survive a church pool party. ”
Bryce groaned. “Another thing you promised never to bring up.”
“Yeah, well,” Brock grinned, “you also promised not to get married without telling me, so I figure we’re even.”
Bryce winced. “Wow. Low blow.”
“Exactly,” Brock said, pointing the bottle at him. “I know you. You might be married, and yeah, you’re clearly deep in the set for your wife—but when I walked back in with sustenance, she looked half ready to bolt.”
Bryce didn’t answer. His jaw worked, but no words came.
“Ahhh, I knew it,” Brock said, his tone softening. “Something went down. Not asking for details that aren’t mine to know. But I know you, brah. I know the look you get when the wave drops, you’re going over the falls and you get ragdolled.”
Bryce groaned and rolled his eyes. “You and the surfing metaphors…”
He gestured loosely between them. “You’ve made peace with the Father. I see it. Your eye hasn’t twitched once when I’ve talked about God. That alone? Tells me everything.”
Bryce exhaled, pressing his palms against his knees. “It’s been... a ride.”
Brock nodded, easy and steady. “Waves don’t scare me. Just tell me you’re not trying to paddle through it alone.”
Bryce gave him a look—half exhausted, half amused. “Seriously? Another surfing metaphor?”
Brock winked. “What can I say? That metaphor had swell potential.”
Bryce laughed and settled down and grabbed a root beer off the coffee table.
Bryce exhaled, head resting against the back of the couch.
“Work trip in Vegas. Woke up married. No idea how. Beth didn’t either.”
Brock leaned back, stretching his legs. “So, did you give your heart back to God right then and there?”
Bryce smiled, eyes misty. “Yeah. Holding that marriage license, I just knew... I couldn’t live for myself anymore.”
Their voices drifted like a current—sometimes surfacing, sometimes fading into the hush of the late hour. The soft lamplight pooled over the coffee table, warming the wood,
wrapping them in a quiet brotherhood.
“I took her for a hike and proposed,” Bryce murmured later, his eyes far away. “Wanted her to have a real ring and not miss out on having that moment. An engagement story to tell.”
That moment had marked something new. Not the beginning of a perfect romance—but the first honest step. They hadn’t figured everything out on that trail, but the path forward had started there.
The hours melted. They talked about love. About grace. About what it meant to return home.
Morning light crept in, brushing soft gold across the countertops.
Brock cracked a grin. “Glad the prodigal son came back.”
Bryce chuckled, full and free. “Me too. And man… Beth? She’s incredible.” Bryce caught himself just before he spilled the beans on their pregnancy.
Without another word, Brock reached out and prayed.
For Bryce. For Beth. For their marriage.
When the last Amen fell, Bryce stood and crossed to the kitchen. He prepped the coffee pot so it would be ready when Beth woke up.
“You think missions in Belize might be back on the table?” Brock asked, watching his brother with a knowing look.
Bryce paused, hand hovering over the switch.
“I’ve wondered that myself.”