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“Oh, stop all that formality, my dear,” she says, and she moves in for a hug. She squeezes me tightly. “Call me Missy or Mom, but never Mrs. Nash.” She pulls back and holds me at arm’s length as she studies me. “You’re a gorgeous girl that I wish I could’ve seen as a bride. In your own clothes, of course.”
My cheeks burn red in total and complete mortification.
“She’s teasing you,” Spencer says. “She does that to the people she loves most. You’ll see.”
She can’t love me yet. She doesn’t even know me. But at least her teasing me seems like a good sign that maybe eventually I’ll win her over.
“See? It’s funny already,” she says, letting go of me and elbowing Spencer in the ribs.
He grunts a little.
“Tell me all about yourself, and leave not a single detail out,” she says to me, and she slings an arm around my shoulders and starts to guide me toward the bar.
Yes. The bar. A glass of wine is needed promptly if I’m going to make it to the other side of this evening alive.
“There’s my ex, also known as your new father-in-law,” she says, nodding toward a man talking to a slightly younger, slightly shorter and leaner version of Spencer wearing a purple velvet tracksuit when everyone else here is dressed to the nines. “And Asher, my youngest, in the velour.” We approach the bar, and Missy yells to the bartender. “Take care of this one, okay? She’s a newlywed.”
Oh, God. My face burns again, and I know she’s just being sweet, but she’s really talented at embarrassing me.
“Oh, is this the girl Spence drunk-married last night?” Asher asks, turning away from his conversation with his father and beelining toward Missy and me.
“The very one,” Missy confirms.
I feel like this is going to be a very long night.
Chapter 21: Spencer Nash
Velour Tracksuits and Matching Drinks
The Day After the Wedding
I’m cornered by Lincoln the moment Mom leads Grace toward the bar, and he’s berating me about what I’ve done.
Just what I wanted.
As if I haven’t berated myself enough over this whole thing.
Grayson isn’t here yet, and I’m sort of dreading the moment he walks in and sees me here with my date. My wife.
Except somehow, I think the surprise I have planned for the two of them will help them get over their anger. I hope.
At least my mother can see the humor in the whole thing, though it may take some time for Ava and Grayson to get there.
I glance up and see a velour-clad Asher talking to my mother and Grace, and that feels like trouble.
It’s not jealousy that pinches at my nerves, exactly, but it’s something a little darker than I was expecting to feel. Grace is a full five years younger than me, closer in age to Asher than to me. I can’t help but worry that one day she’ll wake up and think…man, this guy’s old.
Especially since Asher can snag any woman he wants. It’s his superpower, I guess.
He can wear stupid clothes like velour tracksuits and get away with it because of his charm. He has an easy way with people. He’s outgoing like my other brothers, where I’m the quiet, reserved one.
I do okay for myself, too—obviously. Both Newman sisters wanted to marry me, even if it wasn’t for love.
Okay, fine. Bad example. But sometimes the way Grace looks at me makes me think we could get there someday.
I’m sure it’s my imagination.
But sometimes I look at her and think we could get there someday, too, which is absolutely insane since we’re nothing more than good friends.
