Chapter 30 Beau
Beau
Whit said it was a sorry excuse for a bachelor party, but the nearest strip club was in Perry, and I didn’t want to be that far away from Noelle.
Not that I said it out loud.
I just shrugged and passed him another beer.
“She’d probably find a way to out-tip us anyway,” I said as we discussed if we had all just gone to a strip club together. “Let’s be honest—the girls would be way more popular with the strippers.”
Rhett grunted his agreement. “Noelle would end up in the VIP room, asking questions about folklore and how many of the dancers have seen somethin’.”
“She’d befriend half the club and leave with three new interview contacts,” Holden muttered.
“Y’all are makin’ it sound like I don’t have a backbone,” I said, but I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.
“You don’t,” Whit said. “At least not where she’s concerned.”
“You do,” Silas said more quietly. “It just bends toward her. That’s different.”
That shut us all up for a second.
The porch creaked as Whit leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs. “So what’s the plan, anyway? After the wedding? You think she’s still gonna do the podcast? Or is she gonna be a hot little housewife making you peanut butter sandwiches?”
“You clearly haven’t had her cookin’,” I said. “Girl can’t even fry an egg.”
The whole porch cracked up at that, even Holden.
“She tried to make toast over the fire pit one night,” I added, shaking my head. “Ended up with a charred log and two marshmallows melted to a coat hanger.”
“Resourceful,” Silas said, deadpan.
“She told me her strengths lie elsewhere,” I said, and yeah, maybe I was grinning like a dumbass again. Couldn’t help it. “And she’s not wrong.”
“Christ,” Whit muttered. “You’re gonna make me puke.”
“She’s not gonna be anybody’s housewife,” Rhett said, more serious now. “Even if she stays. That girl’s got things to say. Things she hasn’t even figured out how to say yet. She’ll find a way.”
I nodded. “I just wanna be next to her when she does.”
There was a pause—long enough for the bugs to hum around us and the firepit to pop—and then Silas leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“You scared?” he asked.
I didn’t pretend not to know what he meant.
“Yeah,” I said. “But not of her. Not of bein’ married. Just…scared of messin’ it up. Scared she’ll wake up one day and remember she’s from a city with options, and I’m just a grease monkey with a truck that barely starts and a town without a sushi restaurant.”
Holden tilted his head. “You think she doesn’t already know that?”
“I know she knows it,” I said. “But knowin’ it and feelin’ it every day are two different things.”
Silas nodded slowly, like he understood. Like he felt it, too.
“You won’t mess it up,” Rhett said finally. “You love her. And more important—you see her. That’s more than most people get.”
Whit was quiet for a long beat, then said, “Still wouldn’t kill you to put some peanut butter on toast every once in a while. Just in case.”
I threw my bottle cap at him.
He ducked, cackling.
“You want my advice?” Silas said. “Tell her all this. Not just tonight. Every day. Even when she pisses you off. Especially then. Let her see the ugly shit, not just the shiny parts.”
Rhett nodded. “Marriage isn’t about pretendin’ it’s perfect. It’s about choosin’ each other anyway.”
“You fuckers are soft,” Whit said, but his voice cracked just a little.
“Don’t act like you’re not constantly following Delilah Jessup around like a dog on a goddamn leash,” Holden chuckled. “You’re just as whipped as Beau, but Delilah doesn’t even like you.”
Whit’s face twisted into something between a scowl and a grin. “She likes me fine.”
“No,” Rhett said, cracking open another beer. “She tolerates you. Big difference.”
“She lets you exist in her general vicinity,” Silas added. “Which, honestly, might be love in her language.”
“Yeah?” Whit shot back. “Well, I’m not the one who married a woman who made me cry during sex.”
Silas didn’t even flinch. “Call me when you’ve had sex so good you cry, then we’ll see how you feel.”
That shut Whit up. He took a swig of beer and muttered, “Point taken.”
Then he looked at Holden.
“Wait a fuckin’ second, though—you’re givin’ me shit, and I haven’t heard a peep from you about your love life. Nonexistent, right?”
Holden shifted in his seat, pretending to examine the label on his bottle. “Why am I suddenly in the hot seat?”
“Because you’re the last mystery,” Rhett said, gesturing with his beer. “You’ve been back in town for months now, and we still don’t know jack shit about who you’ve been seeing.”
“Maybe because I haven’t been seeing anyone,” Holden said flatly.
“Ever?” Whit asked, blinking. “Wait—are you a virgin?”
Holden rolled his eyes. “No, jackass. I’ve had girlfriends. I just…don’t really do long term.”
“Translation,” Silas muttered, “he bolts before they start expecting toothbrush space.”
“Hey, some of us were traveling the world and doing important shit,” Holden said. “Peace Corps. Conservation work. You know—stuff that doesn’t mesh well with a joint checking account.”
“Sure,” Rhett said. “But you’re not in Guatemala anymore. You’re in Willow Grove. And the last time I checked, it’s not illegal to settle down here.”
“Not illegal,” Holden said, “but not always smart.”
I glanced at him. “You sayin’ that like you got someone in mind and you’re scared to try?”
Holden didn’t answer. Just took a slow sip of beer and looked out over the yard.
“Ohhh,” Whit drawled. “He’s got a thing for somebody. Look at that face.”
“I do not,” Holden said, entirely too fast.
Rhett narrowed his eyes. “Is it someone we know?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Whit said at the same time. “It’s totally someone we know.”
“Shut up,” Holden muttered.
“Ain’t even seen you talkin’ to any women—or men, for that matter—other than Flora Hardwick, and I could’ve sworn you two despised each other,” I said.
Whit chuckled. “That can make for a real good lay.”
Holden glared at him. “You’re fucking vile.”
“Didn’t deny it, though,” Rhett said, grinning over the rim of his bottle.
Silas leaned forward again, elbows on his knees. “Wait. You serious? You and Flora?”
“There is no me and Flora,” Holden said, way too fast.
Which, of course, meant there absolutely was something going on.
“Uh-huh,” Whit said. “Just like I ‘tolerate’ Delilah. C’mon, man. What’s the deal? You two got some kind of hate-fucking arrangement? Secret woodland trysts? Should we be checking the Gloam for love nests?”
“Jesus, can you just leave me alone?” Holden said. “Just not interested in that right now…and definitely not in Flora Hardwick.”
Whit just grinned, undeterred. “Sure, sure. Just sayin’, y’all’ve got that weird animosity thing goin’ on.”
Holden turned toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re really gonna come for me when Delilah Jessup won’t even give you the time of day unless she’s bleeding or bored?”
Whit blinked, then barked a laugh. “Okay, damn.”
Rhett whistled low. “That was uncalled for.”
“No, he’s got a point,” Whit said, still grinning. “She does call me more often when she needs stitches or when her internet’s down.”
“You ever think maybe she just doesn’t want you to get too comfortable?” Silas said mildly.
“Yeah,” Holden added. “Might be time to accept that the dog-chasing-car thing ain’t gonna work.”
Whit flipped them both off. “Y’all are acting like I’m pining. I’m not pining. I’m just... conveniently located.”
“Like a Waffle House,” Rhett said.
“Exactly,” Silas added. “Open at all hours, bad for your health, and somehow still standing after multiple acts of God.”
That earned a round of laughter, Whit included. But it fizzled out again as the fire crackled low, casting longer shadows against the yard.
Then Silas spoke again, his voice quiet and almost offhand. “June’s pregnant.”
Rhett stilled. Whit sat up straighter. Holden blinked.
“What?” I asked.
Silas nodded, eyes on the flames. “Told me a few days ago. Didn’t want to make a big deal of it until she was sure.”
A silence settled over us.
“Well shit,” Whit said after a long moment. “You’re gonna be a dad?”
Silas shrugged, but the way he did it wasn’t casual. His jaw was tight. “Looks that way.”
Rhett leaned over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be good at it.”
“You sure?” Silas asked, eyes finally meeting his. “’Cause I’ve got a long list of reasons to think otherwise.”
“We all do,” Rhett said. “But that girl loves you. And you already know what not to do. That’s half the battle.”
“Plus,” I added, “if the kid ends up being a menace, Delilah can teach ’em how to fight dirty, and Noelle’ll get ’em booked on a podcast. Built-in community service.”
Silas huffed out a laugh. “Great. Can’t wait.”
Holden raised his bottle. “To weird love and even weirder kids.”
We clinked bottles, and for a moment, there was nothing but the night around us—stars overhead, fire dying low, and the kind of easy silence that only comes when everything important’s already been said.
Tomorrow, I’d marry the woman who turned my world upside down. Tonight, I had everything I needed right here.