dryly.
"Doesn't matter. He's still adorable, but if Lawton wouldn't have been obsessed with him in high school––"
I gasped, glaring over at my brother. "Obsessed? That's a bit exaggerated."
"You had a small shrine."
I huffed, rolling my eyes. "That wasn't a shrine."
"Oh yes it was," Cashin supplied, making Maddox giggle.
"But," Wagoner said, pointedly. "If you wouldn't have been over the top obsessed, bordering on completely certifiable, I probably never would have noticed him. Look at him now. He's desperately trying to become one with the paint on the wall."
We all looked over at Newell, and even I had to admit that he seemed to be using the toddlers as a diapered forcefield.
"Well, I think his days of being hidden away are numbered," Jennings said, reaching up to pinch Wagoner's nipple and laughing when the man swatted at his hand. "Da has already claimed him. He'll never be lonely again."
"He will however be married within the year," Cashin said, and Maddox nodded.
Da had gone easy on Maddox while he'd been staying pretty busy finalizing all the plans for Cole and Riley's wedding since it was coming up pretty quickly, but he'd apparently not had much of a busy day today because the couple had basically been attacked the moment they walked into the house, and they now had a wedding date set for the second Saturday in February.
I could handle a March wedding.
"You think I can make him fall in love with me by then?"
Butterflies fluttered in my belly just thinking about making Newell mine soon.
Maddox blinked at me for a long moment before bursting into laughter.
"I don't know what that means," I grumbled, still waiting for an answer.
"You've spent nearly eleven years on this, and you think you are somehow going to seal the deal in six months?" Wagoner asked, clearly having no belief in me.
"I only actively worked on it for like a year."
"And got nowhere," Cashin added, dryly.
Maddox leaned further into Cashin, leaning a crutch against his hip to reach out and pat my shoulder. "I have all the confidence in the world."
I nearly threw a fist in the air and woohooed excitedly, but somehow managed to keep my celebration to a giddy smile.
***
The first day of my new plan to help Newell notice me noticing him, I'd stopped by his classroom randomly throughout the day, peeking my head in and getting his attention with a little wave and my best smile. He's seemed surprised every time, but by the third time, he'd actually smiled when he waved instead of immediately checking over his shoulder like he was trying to figure out who I was actually waving at.
On day two, I continued with the random visits, but I'd also greeted him before school, waiting until he pulled into the lot to get out of my own car, and I walked beside him as he made his way into the school. I'd been blessed with a strange look that turned into a small smile as we walked, and I desperately hoped he was remembering all those times in high school where I'd done the same thing.
He'd never really spoken to me during those times unless I'd asked him a direct question, but he'd always quietly thanked me for getting the door. He'd done the same that time, glancing over his shoulder to look at me several times and nearly falling in another trashcan as he didn't see the school janitor wheeling the giant thing around until his feet were bumping into the bottom.
Thankfully, the thing had been pretty empty, and therefore light, and it had merely gone sliding across the floor, only causing him to stumble slightly.
He'd apologized profusely to Mrs. Winters, but she'd been too busy trying not to laugh to do much more than wave him off, and when he turned to look at me, I'd smiled and waved, and he'd blushed bright red but given me a small wave back.
By Wednesday, I was beyond ready to spend some real time with him, and far too impatient to ease things any further. So, I found myself standing directly outside his classroom right before lunch, waiting for the bell to ring.
The kids quickly started making their way out of his room, a couple stopping to say hi to me on their way out, and one of my football players even stopping to give me a lascivious smirk when he caught me looking over his shoulder toward the front of the room where Newell was taking the papers out of the