Page 30 of Over the Moon (Rosewood River #3)

twenty-one

. . .

Clark

Easton

I’m proposing to Henley next weekend. Emerson, Nash, and Cutler will be coming in to town for it. Clear your schedules for Saturday evening. More details to come soon.

Bridger

Whatever happened to just taking a knee on a walk?

Rafe

Did you tell Emerson first?

Easton

You were all with me when I got the ring several weeks ago. I just decided to do it this weekend, so yes, I talked to her this morning.

Archer

It’s that twin bullshit. They always favor each other.

Easton

Yes. She’s my favorite because she isn’t an asshole.

Rafe

It’s all about them sharing a womb. Don’t punish us because Mom gave us our own womb.

Bridger

Are you drunk?

Rafe

No. I’m sitting on my fancy shitter. Just doing the petty twin theatrics.

Easton

Reel it back in. This is going down this weekend.

Axel

Congrats. Are we doing a grand gesture?

Of course, he is. He’s a fucking Chadwick.

Rafe

Go big or go home.

Bridger

Go home.

Easton

Well, I’m doing it at your stables, Bridger. So we’ll be transforming the space.

Bridger

Yet you told your womb-sharing twin first?

Easton

Correct.

Rafe

I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.

Easton

See you tonight at dinner. Are we still acting like Eloise is a new friend?

Yes. Just talk less and listen more.

Bridger

I want that on a shirt.

Rafe

That’s a shirt I wouldn’t wear. I was born to play this part. I’ll act like I’ve barely met her.

Don’t overplay it. Just be cool.

Bridger

Good luck with that.

Easton

I was born cool.

Axel

There are a lot of players to control on this chessboard of yours, Clark. I don’t understand why you can’t just say you’re friends.

Archer

Aren’t they friends?

Rafe

I’m getting lover vibes. I think he’s holding out.

Easton

Agreed. I think the hockey stick has left the building.

Axel

You think so?

Easton

I saw him this morning. He had a little more swagger in his step.

Archer

Dry spell is over?

I don’t kiss and tell.

Rafe

That’s the same thing as saying you did the deed, brother. Because if there was nothing to tell, you wouldn’t have to say that.

Bridger

What happened to talking less?

Maybe you can all say you got a bad case of laryngitis tonight and stay home.

Easton

Stop worrying. We’ve got this.

I arrived at the house with Randall, and my family was already talking his ear off. They’d met him many times, along with Coach Gable. But they had never met Sebastian, as he was newly taking over the day-to-day operations for the Lions.

The doorbell rang, and my father went to answer the door. He walked in and made an over-the-top announcement, completely off-script from what I told him to say.

“Look who we have here. We’ve all met Coach Gable, but we’ve not yet met Sebastian Wayburn nor Coach Gable’s daughter, Eloise.

Is it Eloise, am I saying it correctly? Whenever I meet people for the first time , I’m terrible with names,” my father said, looking at me like he just earned an Academy Award.

He’d most likely win a Razzie Award for this performance.

For fuck’s sake.

She already shared that she’d met most of my family during her time here. They didn’t need to act like strangers. All they were told was to not make it obvious that she came to Sunday dinner every week.

“Yes, you can call me Eloise. Nice to see you all.” She cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with how over-the-top my father had been. Sebastian made his way around the group, shaking hands and shmoozing, and I wanted to hate the dude, but it was only because I knew he wanted my woman.

My woman.

I’d never had a thought like that in my life.

“I’ve got the best whiskey in Rosewood River for everyone to sample,” Easton said, giving me a look like I had nothing to worry about. By the way he was pouring the whiskey, it was clear that he planned to get everyone drunk so they wouldn’t remember any of this anyway.

Easton, Henley, Rafe, and Lulu passed out glasses of expensive bourbon, and I stuck to water because I sure as hell wasn’t going to get shitfaced in front of my coach, trainer, and owner of the team. I noticed Eloise had also passed on the whiskey and opted for a glass of wine.

“Come on,” Sebastian said, nudging her with his shoulder before tipping his head back. “You can have a few whiskeys with me, can’t you?”

Motherfucker.

He was going to pull this shit in my parents’ home?

He wore a navy polo shirt and green plaid pants, which pissed me the hell off. The preppy fucker reeked of money and education. He probably played golf and chess and met his old fraternity brothers in the Hamptons once a year for vacation.

“Sebastian, I’ve got to tell you, those plaid pants are a whole vibe. I think I’m definitely going to get a pair,” Rafe, the kiss-ass bastard said.

“You’ve got a good eye. According to my mother, they are all the rage on the East Coast,” the cocky bastard said, as he winked at Eloise because the fucker was sticking to her like glue. “I’m a bit of a mama’s boy.”

Easton came around with the bottle to refill their glasses. Sebastian tipped his head back a second time, along with every member of my family, and chuckled. “This is my kind of Sunday dinner.”

“Ours, too, Sebastian. Meeting you for the first time, and of course, meeting Coach Gable’s daughter—what was your name again, Elander?” my father asked, and I closed my eyes and internally groaned at how awkward he was making this.

Bridger shot me a look like I shouldn’t worry because he was stepping in. “It’s Eloise, Dad. Word on the street is that you live in the rental property owned by the anonymous author of the Taylor Tea ?”

And that helped the situation how?

“Oh, Emilia, your landlord, is an author and a florist?” Coach Gable asked.

“No. She’s not an author. She’s a florist. And yes, I live in her guesthouse,” Eloise said, arching a brow at my brother.

“Interesting. I guess we’ll see if this visit gets mentioned next Saturday. I’m sure she knows about your comings and goings, which will make writing about our family very easy.”

For fuck’s sake.

“It’s time for dinner,” my mother said, wincing at me as if she wanted to make this better.

“Great,” Easton called out. “Get your glasses filled on the way to the table.”

“This is like a college party tonight,” Archer said against my ear, keeping his voice low. “I’m glad I walked here.”

I groaned and made my way over to Easton after everyone found their seats at the table. “You don’t need to get them so wasted that they won’t be able to walk back to the hotel.”

“Hey, I’m your best shot at coming out of this in one piece. The old man is pouring it on far too thick, and Bridger has a one-track mind. You can thank me later.” Easton tipped his head back and downed his drink.

I’d never been so grateful that Melody was not here.

Aunt Isabelle and Uncle Carlisle had taken her to see Isabelle’s sister for the weekend.

We sat down, and Rafe insisted we all raise our glasses once all the food was set down in the middle of the table.

Easton took that moment to refill Sebastian’s, Coach Gable’s, and Randall’s glasses because they were shooting the shots back as quickly as he could fill them.

My parents were meeting them shot for shot, and I just watched as this shitshow unfolded.

Of course, the dickhead Sebastian found a way to score the seat next to Eloise. The dude couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“To all of our new friends,” Rafe said before my father interrupted.

“Miss Eloise is a new friend,” Dad said, words already slurring, and I silently begged him to stop talking.

“Are we ever going to eat dinner?” Bridger grumped under his breath.

“Anyway,” Rafe said, looking around the table. “It’s a Chadwick tradition to finish the bottle of whiskey and break bread when we gather for the first time with loved ones, new and old.” He winked at me as if he were saving the day.

We had no such tradition, and he was making this dinner awkward as fuck.

Eloise shot Lulu a look of panic, and she quickly squeezed my brother’s arm. “Beautiful sermon, Father. Let’s eat,” Lulu said.

Laughter erupted around the table as I passed the chicken to Archer.

Platters moved from one person to the next as Randall asked for a refill. Easton poured the last of the bottle for him and opened a second.

This party could hold its own with any college party I’d ever attended.

And I was the only sober one at the table. Eloise was on her second glass of wine, and everyone else was elbow-deep in bourbon, and their words were slurring.

My father tipped his head back and emptied his glass before turning to Eloise. “Tell us, young lady, who we’ve never met before, what is it that you do for our son?”

Easton fell forward in laughter. “Why are you talking like you’re in a Shakespearean production?”

I shoved the basket of rolls at Bridger, keeping my voice low. “Hand these to Dad and tell him to eat some bread.”

“Your father has gotten more thoughtful with his words since attending all those Jelly Roll concerts,” my mother said proudly.

Sebastian held his glass up for yet another refill and then spoke. “Eloise is our team physical therapist with a dual certification as an athletic trainer. She’s quite an impressive woman. And beautiful, as well.”

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

I wasn’t allowed to admit I was actually dating her because we worked for the same organization, yet the owner can blatantly hit on her at Sunday dinner in front of everyone.

“Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat as her gaze found mine, and she looked very uncomfortable.

“Well, athletic trainer is a title that comes with years of experience,” Randall interrupted before reaching for the bottle from Easton and filling his own glass. “And she is not the athletic trainer on this team. She’s a newbie, and we’ll see how it goes.”

The nerve of this fucking guy. It took everything in me not to stand up and tell him to shut the fuck up.