“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 notconstantlyfollowing 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.”
