Moving to a new city made it really hard to find witnesses when you decided to get married in a rush.
The following evening, I opened the door to our unwitting wedding guests, and they instantly grew suspicious when they saw that I wore a tan-colored suit with a plumeria blossom affixed to the lapel.
“Little overdressed for a barbeque, don’t you think?” Crew teased.
“Yeah, about that . . . I might’ve undersold the agenda by just a smidge.” I held my fingers a millimeter apart.
“Undersold how?” Cole questioned.
I shifted on my feet. “I’m, uh, getting married. On the beach. In about thirty minutes.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us as both men stared at me with wide eyes.
Crew managed to recover first, exclaiming, “Holy shit, Nixon, way to bury the lede!”
In the short time that I’d known them, I’d learned that Cole was the more perceptive of the Astor twins, and his response to my news proved that. “When a trade comes in, management lets me know if I need to make introductions between the newplayer’s significant other and the other wives and girlfriends. You didn’t have one as of two months ago, and now you’re having what feels like a secret wedding? Did you get a girl pregnant?”
While he’d hit the nail on the head, he was off by about thirteen years.
Cringing, I confessed, “Kinda.”
Eyes bulging, Crew shouted, “Kinda? How do youkindaknock someone up?”
“Why don’t you come in, and I’ll show you?” I stepped back to allow them entry.
They followed me into the house, the path I took leading us to the kitchen. Maisie came into view, seated on a stool at the island, looking way too grown-up in an aqua dress with her hair curled, a flower that matched the one on my suit jacket tucked behind her ear.
“Guys, I’d like for you to meet Maisie. My daughter.”
“Whoa,” Crew breathed. “That’s not a fetus.”
“You’re an idiot,” Cole muttered at his brother before stepping toward my daughter with a smile. “Hi, Maisie. I’m Cole. Me and my twin, Crew, play on the Surf with your dad.”
“Hi,” she squeaked, blushing like the preteen she was when faced with arguably the second and third most attractive men in the room—though technically, since they were identical, they could probably claim a tie for second.
He pretended not to notice her reaction, continuing to make conversation. “Bet you’re excited your parents are getting married.”
Maisie’s forehead creased. “Arizona’s not my mom.”
Cole spun on me, wide-eyed. “Arizona? Please tell me she doesn’t mean Arizona Cleary.”
A shit-eating grin split my face. “She won’t be a Cleary for much longer.”
“How? When?” He placed a hand to his forehead. “You can’t marry her; you just met!”
Crew scoffed. “Look at this guy throwing stones when he lives in a glass house. You wanna know how long he knew his ex-wife before they tied the knot?”
His twin glared from across the kitchen. “Don’t.”
Undeterred, Crew answered his own question. “Six weeks. So he’s not in any position to judge. If anything, his situation should serve as a cautionary tale. Pregnant or not, you should probably take a beat, make sure you’re compatible before making it legal.”
“Arizona’s pregnant?” Maisie cried.
“No, she’s not.” I shut down the misconception for everyone in the room.
“Then what’s the rush?” Cole asked.
“Long story short, Maisie recently came into my life, and I’m her only living relative. Her witch of a social worker would love nothing more than to send her back to her foster family in Kansas, instead of letting her stay here with me. Arizona offered to become her temporary guardian while I fight for custody, and I might have volunteered that she was my fiancée.”
