Page 19 of After this Summer (Seasons in Montana: Summer #11)

INDIE

“ Y ou are just glowing .” Elora Sterling beams, her dark hair pulled back and her smile wide as she squeezes my hands. “How are you feeling?”

I’d met her at Pen’s wedding and she looks just as beautiful now as she did all dolled up.

I think back to my absolute meltdown twenty minutes ago and lift one shoulder with a wry grin. “Some days are better than others. It’s the unexpected surges of emotion that have been the hardest.”

She nods, understanding written all over her face. “One time, I made this really lovely peach pie… I think I was pregnant with Wren, so we had Lake and Beau already. I had a whole bunch of errands to do that day, but I’d been fixated on getting home and eating that last slice of pie.”

“Oh no,” I muse as her eyes widen, all but confirming what I already know.

“Winston had come home for lunch and polished it off, then he thought washing the pie plate would be a big help. You can imagine how that went.”

“Not well, I’m sure.”

We both chuckle. “There was a peach pie in the freezer for the next five months. Poor man was terrified of sending me into hysterics again.”

“I love that.”

“He’s a good man,”—she winks—“and congratulations are in order.” She’s practically vibrating with excitement as she takes my bare left hand—my wedding band sitting on the dresser with Beau’s in our bedroom.

His bedroom.

Shit.

How am I already so comfortable?

It would be a fair question if it were any other man. But it’s almost laughable considering Beau had offered to do my hair and makeup so I wouldn’t feel so stressed.

I want to growl at how perfect he always seems to be, but instead of riling myself up over my fake husband and attempting to drag him into a dark hallway, I turn my attention back to his mother.

“We’re so excited and things have been so crazy. I have no idea how we’re going to pull off a wedding so soon…even a small one.”

“I would love to help if you’re comfortable with that. I know it’s hard not having your mother close, and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but I’d be honored to help any way I can.”

Tears well in my eyes and they only fall harder when Elora pulls me tight against her. I didn’t realize how much I missed my mama until this very minute. Gratitude washes over me as we stand there, her embrace soothing a piece of me that I hadn’t realized was so unsettled.

“That would be so wonderful,” I tell her, pulling back so she can see the sincerity on my face.

“It’s my pleasure. I am over the moon to have another daughter.” She smiles at me, and this time it’s Elora Sterling who has me falling a little more in love here in Wintervale.

BEAU

“So not only are you having a baby,” Lake says, his beer halfway to his lips, “you’re getting married too.” He lets out a low whistle and I can’t help but chuckle.

“He’s a hero,” Jesse says with a nod as he raises his own beer in a mock toast.

“Mom still on you about finding your soulmate?” Lake asks him and he shakes his head, the hint of a smirk on his face.

“Not since she found out about the wedding.” He looks over to where Mom, Pen, and Indie are all whispering, nodding, and consulting their phones. I have no doubt by the time this dinner is over, the wedding will be all planned and I’ll blessedly only have to show up.

“You’re welcome,” I snort but he just slaps me on the back.

“I may get a couple of weeks out of this.” Jesse sighs wistfully but Lake snickers.

“Yeah, until she asks who your date for the wedding is.”

“Indie and I agreed on just something small and intimate. I think he’s safe for at least a month.”

“That’s like a vacation in the Caribbean,” Jesse muses.

“Remember that when Indie and I need a babysitter.”

“Whatever you want.”

Frowning, I turn to face him. “Has Mom really been that bad? She’s always been on us to find someone, but you’re acting like you’d rather be in the witness protection program.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhales heavily and Lake and I just wait. “No, she’s fine, but I’m only twenty-four. I want Mr. Right Now not Mr. Right.” Glancing between us, he adds, “Don’t you dare repeat that to Mom.”

“That’ll cost you,” Lake mumbles and Jesse’s shoulders slump as our father joins us.

“You boys conspiring over here?” he says with a knowing glint in his eye, because Winston Sterling raised three versions of himself in looks and values.

Still, there’s no sense in throwing Jesse under the bus.

Not yet at least.

“Mom is talking to Indie and Pen about wedding details,” I tell him and watch as his gaze slides to his youngest son.

“Should buy you some time,” he murmurs as Lake barks out a laugh and Jesse rolls his eyes.

“How do you feel about building baby furniture?” I ask as my attention turns back toward my girl.

Throwing back the rest of his beer, Jesse wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. “Name the time and place.”

Well, would you look at that.