Page 60 of Stay With Me

The guys went to dinner at Antonio’s Seafood House first, while the girls had their own dinner celebration. Once we finished eating, we hopped on the party bus, picked them up, and then went to the bar.

Since Magnolia and I are keeping quiet, we acted the same as we normally do so no one suspected anything. I held her drinks while she danced and resisted touching her every time she was within arm’s length. Except when she left to use the bathroom, I waited in the dimly lit hallway and then stole a kiss when no one was around.

But as I watched her from across the bar, I felt this strong urge to text Billy and tell him all about how I finally confessed my feelings to Magnolia. Although I hadn’t outright told him, he made comments about how I looked at her and nudged me to ask her out even during the years she was on and off with Travis. Even he knew her ex wasn’t good enough for her and part of mewished I’d listened. But the other part wonders if we would’ve been too young and immature to know how to make our relationship work back then. Perhaps we were meant to wait until we were at the same stages of our lives to put in the right amount of effort to have a real one.

“Hello, boys!” Noah nearly shouts as they approach the table. “So nice of you to join us!”

“Dude, lower your voice.” Wilder winces, covering his ears.

“What’s the matter?” I match Noah’s volume, leaning back in my chair with a smug grin.

Fisher chuckles as Noah and I taunt them. Although they’re the future newlyweds, they didn’t get crazy drunk. However, they both took a turn on the mechanical bull last night, and I’m halfway surprised Noah didn’t show up with a concussion after face-planting the mat.

At least I didn’t have to worry about Magnolia in that area because she refuses to get on it. Since I wasn’t getting drunk, there was no way I was riding it either, but we all enjoyed watching my brothers act like dumbasses.

Once everyone’s seated at the table, Gramma Grace and Mom bring all the food platters to the table, and Dad carries the pitcher of sweet tea.

“Surprised y’all showed up for work this mornin’, to be honest,” he says, pouring drinks.

“Didn’t know it wasn’t an option not to,” Waylon mutters.

Even though the twins are almost thirty years old, they still party like they’re twenty-one. One of these days, it’s going to catch up to them. After countless beers and shots, I had to nearly carry them out of my truck and walk them to their doors. They live in one of the ranch hand duplexes next to Landen and me, so at least it wasn’t out of my way, but goddamn, I thought they were gonna nosedive on the sidewalk and choke on their own vomit they were stumbling so much.

“It ain’t,” Dad confirms.

Mallory giggles as Waylon makes a sour face at his response.

Not every day is a full workload, but each morning we’re expected to muck stalls and feed the horses. Guests stay at the retreat seven days a week, so there’s always a full staff on board and plenty of chores to be done.

“Let’s say the blessing,” Mom says once she takes her seat next to Dad’s.

Gramma Grace offers to say it, and we bow our heads. She blesses the food, each family member, and Noah’s upcoming nuptials. Then she takes us all by surprise when she ends it with, “And let there be a new baby in the family before the end of the year. Amen.”

“Gramma Grace!” Noah scolds, but she’s smiling wide.

“What? I didn’t specify any names.” She shrugs innocently, and my mom smiles. I’m sure she’d love nothing more than to be a grandma.

“Let us enjoy being married first.”

It’s still a little weird to me that she’s marrying her ex’s dad, who’s literally twice her age. If they have a kid soon, that means his oldest child and his youngest will be twenty-five years apart.Weird.

But as long as they’re happy and he treats my sister the way she deserves, I wouldn’t care if they had ten babies.

Assuming she doesn’t ask me to babysit every weekend.

Although I probably would since it’d be better than playing DD bitch to my brothers.

I’d just have to learn how to change diapers, feed a baby, and about everything else that comes with taking care of one.

And of course, I’d be the favorite uncle.

“Callin’ dibs on godfather!” Landen shouts randomly after we’ve all filled our plates with homemade macaroni and cheese with fried steak and gravy. My dad’s favorite.

“You can’t do that!” Waylon flings a roll at his head. “Plus, it’s tradition the eldest brother gets that title first.”

“What?” Wilder gasps. “You’re older by like two minutes! I should be an option.”

“Too bad, I already called it.” Landen gloats like the idiot he is.