23. Peyton

23

Ilove my sister and tell her as such when I put on my beautiful A-line dress for her wedding. She picked it out, to match her gown, hiding our growing bumps—well mostly mine—from any paparazzi lurking in the shadows. Elle doesn't care who knows she's pregnant, but I do. It's something Noah and I plan to tell the world when we're ready. We haven't even officially introduced Stevie Nicks yet, but he's posted her on his social media pages, sans name of course. Noah plans to make her famous, now that he's seen how much dog influencers can make. I have a feeling he's using her as his retirement plan.

Our dad comes around the corner, dressed in a tuxedo, and my heart stops. For a moment, I stare at the man who didn't hesitate to step up and raise Elle and I as his own. It's easy to see why my mom loves him so much. When Harrison James looks at you, he looks. He sees you, your soul, your heart, and he wraps it in his. He makes every pain, heartache, and sorrow disappear with the way he holds, comforts, and soothes you with his words. If it wasn't for him, I don't know if I'd be half the person I am today.

"Wow, Dad. You're looking hot," I tell him as I fan myself. "Mom is going to have a hard time keeping her hands off you."

"Who says she hasn't had them on me already?" Dad waggles his eyebrows at me and before I can reply, Mom comes around the corner, breathless and straightening her dress.

"Really? At Elle's wedding?" My eyes widen in horror at my parents. "What is wrong with you?"

Mom points to Dad. "Him. He's the problem."

To make this all worse, my dad smirks.

"I give up." Throwing my hands in the air I start to walk away, only for my parents to say my name. I turn and they're both coming toward me. It's as if they're walking like zombies, even though they're not, with their arms outstretched as they both go for my belly.

"Ew. Please tell me you washed your hands."

Dad laughs. "Of course."

"With soap and water?" I ask.

"It's like you don't have sex, Peyton," Mom says.

"Uh, gross and no. I'm not having this conversation with you. You're going to be a grandma. Doesn't that mean you stop?"

I'm not sure who laughs first. My dad's head falls back and my mother keels over. I can't with these people. Yet, I stand there because they have this obsession with my belly. At thirteen weeks, I have the cutest little pouch. If I wear anything tight, you can see I'm pregnant. At home, Noah insists I wear anything to show my bump off. He's in love with it and constantly touching or talking to the baby. I don't mind because it gives me ample opportunity to run my hand through his hair, which I absolutely love.

Dad cradles my bump and tells the baby how he can't wait to meet her.

"Her?" I ask.

"Yes, I want a girl," he says.

"And you?" I ask Mom.

"A boy."

"I don't know why," I say to them. "I thought the opposite."

"I already have you and your sister," Mom says.

"Yes, but you have two girls and two boys. I'm surprised you have a preference."

"Boys are easier." Mom shrugs.

"Well, I want a girl because I want Oliver to grow up the way Quinn did, protecting his sisters." Dad holds his hand up. "I know Ollie isn't going to be a big brother, but close enough."

I can't argue with his logic. Quinn was the best big brother either of us could ask for. Even before he was officially my brother, he punched some kid for saying horrible things about my father. He didn't have to do that, but he did, and I've always been so grateful for him.

"Do you want the opposite for Elle?"

My parents shake their heads.

"Interesting." Their thought process truly is. Dad wants granddaughters while mom wants grandsons. I just want a healthy baby.

"We should probably find Elle," I say and lead them toward her bridal suite. When I left, the hairstylist was fighting with her hair. I knock and then open the door.

"Is Ben with you?" Elle asks.

"Nope, just Mom and Dad. Noah has Ben tied up in the bar." We step in. I eye the stylist, who looks frustrated. I'm not sure if it's Elle's hair or Elle herself.

"Oh, great! He's going to be drunk."

"Unlikely," I tell her. "Ben doesn't drink, remember?"

"Well, he might on a day like today."

Dad kisses Elle on her cheek. "I'll go check and then I'll come back."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"Do you need help?" I ask the stylist. "We have the same type of hair, maybe I can get it to do what my sister wants." I step behind Elle and see that she's on the verge of tears. Leaning down to her ear, I whisper, "Don't worry, I got you."

"Thanks, P. I'm wicked hormonal and nothing is going right."

I pick up the curling iron and begin wrapping her hair around the barrel. When the light changes, I pin the curl and move to the next section of her hair. Our mom takes the stylist to the other side of the room, hopefully explaining Elle and her pregnancy hormones and how they're all over the place right now. She has morning sickness, sometimes all day, while I've escaped the curse, so to speak. I've gotten sick only a couple of times and it was because food didn't agree with me. Nothing more. But my sister . . . I fear this may be her one and only pregnancy, even though she has other viable embryos.

After a handful of minutes, I'm done curling. I give her pinned curls a light spritz of hairspray and give them a chance to rest.

"How's your makeup, do you like it?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay, I'll fix it."

I pull a stool in front of her and fix what I know she doesn't like. At one time, Elle loved the drastic look. It was an easy way to tell us apart. She used to opt for dark eyeliner and dark lipstick. This was during her grunge phase, when she couldn't figure out if she wanted to take the next step with Ben or not. Once they finally got together, she toned everything down and went back to the natural look.

Even though we're twins, I've always been jealous of her natural beauty, which is just like our mother's. Everything came effortless to Elle, whereas I feel like I had to work at everything. Except for understanding football. My knowledge there came from Noah, Nick, and Liam. I barely remember anything my father may have taught me and even now, all these years later, a picture of us only sparks a memory that I've learned from my mother.

Elle keeps her eyes closed and her breathing normal. Her hand rests on her bump and every so often she whispers, "I'm worthy of being your mother."

My sister is scared. She never saw herself as the motherly type or even a mother, and yet here she is, eleven weeks pregnant with her first child. A child, I might add, whose father is over-the-moon excited for. I thought I was a bit obsessive when I went to look at furniture for a nursery, but Ben has outfitted not only their house in Malibu but also at our grandfather's house until their newly built home in Beaumont is ready. Ben's bought two of everything so the baby isn't confused and doesn't prefer one over the other.

As if babies cared.

"There," I say when I finish the last of the touches. "Have a look and tell me what you think."

Elle turns slowly and waves her hands near her eyes. "You made me look beautiful."

"I didn't, really." I stand behind her. "You're so naturally beautiful all I did was highlight your best features."

"Thank you, P."

"You're welcome. Now what do you say we find you a groom and get you re-hitched."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Elle's wedding party consists of Noah and me. Quinn is the officiant again. He loved doing it the first time and said it was only right that he did it the second time as well. Elle wasn't going to argue with him. I always thought she'd be a bridezilla, but she's been so laid back and I think her attitude has a lot to do with the fact she and Ben are already married.

When Ben asked Noah to be his best man, there wasn't some grand gesture or heartfelt speech given, it was hey man and then they hugged. After Quinn, Noah is the closest person Ben has. He hasn't talked to his brother much, not since Ben's cancer diagnosis. The family dynamic saddens me only because we're so close. I can't imagine not speaking to Elle and Quinn every day, even when it's by text message.

I walk along the path, in between rows of grapevines, and turn toward the altar where Ben, Quinn, and my husband stand. Behind them is the Pacific Ocean, its blue water and frothy waves lapping over each other until they get to the shore. This is exactly what my sister wanted, to see the ocean, to feel the mist, and to hear the sounds of the waves while she married Ben.

Noah smiles when he sees me, and my insides turn to goo. He's so fucking hot in his tuxedo, with the waves in his hair blowing in the wind. Noah makes my knees weak and my stomach flip flop with anticipation. If I wasn't already pregnant, I would be by the way he's staring at me now.

God, he's gorgeous.

My steps are slow, mostly because I can't take my eyes off Noah. I want to take him home and do things to him, which seems silly since I can have him anytime I want. Above me, a bird squawks, breaking my eye contact with Noah. I smile at Ben, then my brother, and finish my walk.

Mom comes down the aisle next, escorted by Liam. I seek out my mother-in-law and wonder if my expression when looking at her son is the same as hers when she watches her husband. What is it with these Westbury men?

The music shifts and everyone stands. The melody Elle walks to is of Quinn playing the guitar. She told me she caught him playing it one day and recorded him, thankful she had because he hadn't written down any of the notes or chords. Quinn took the recording, played what he had created, and recorded it for Elle. The sound is soothing, almost like a lullaby.

My attention turns to Ben. I want to see his expression when my sister comes into view. I watch him as he waits for her. His gasp comes before his lips turn upward and then turn into a quiver. Ben needs this. He needs to have this moment with his bride. Honestly, Elle does as well. They didn't have this at their first wedding, given Ben was still in hospital. My hope for them, in this moment, is for time to stand still so they can take each other in. Married or not, this is different for them.

They deserve this.

Dad nudges Elle to move forward and she looks up at him and smiles. They reach Quinn, who clears his throat. Those of us who know him, laugh. He takes his role as officiant very seriously.

"We are gathered here today, among the grapes, the ocean, and the birds, to witness the vow renewal of Elle and Ben. For those who don't know, I already married these two once before. However, anyone who knows my sister, knows she likes presents and being the center of attention, so here we are."

"Very funny, Quinny," Elle says while everyone around her laughs.

He clears his throat again. "All jokes aside. I'm happy to stand here and guide my sister and one of my best friends toward their happily ever after. I do so with honor and privilege, and I thank them for choosing me." Quinn looks out at everyone. "Who stands for Elle as she takes the next steps in renewing her vows to Ben?"

"Her mother and I do," Dad says as he gives Elle's hand to Ben.

"Thank you, Daddy." Elle kisses him on the cheek and then steps next to Quinn, facing Ben. He dabs at his eyes and Noah hands him a handkerchief.

Quinn continues with his elegantly written passages. His words about love and family aren't lost on me, but don't exactly have my attention. My focus is on my husband and the baby growing in my belly. Next month, we'll see our son or daughter for the first time, and we'll find out what we're having. I still haven't decided how we'll do a gender reveal but do know it's going to be something we tell people, in our own way, and when we're ready. For all I know, I'll blab the moment I find out.

Elle and Ben exchange vows, kiss, and, despite this being their vow renewal, they walk down the aisle for the first time as husband and wife. Noah and I follow, loving every minute of the celebration in front of us.