Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,324

me happy and allows me the flexibility I have always wanted when it comes to raising my family.

Though some of my brothers and their wives had lofty dreams, and they’ve chased them spectacularly, Lily and I are the staple small-town folk. She’s more than satisfied working part-time at the library, and I own my barbershop on Main Street. Some days I cut fifteen clients, other days I cut five. Every afternoon in the spring, I’m at practice as the head coach of the Fawn Hill High baseball team.

We love our simple life, dedicated to our hometown and the kids we love more than anything. Plus, as they’re getting older, my job as a parent is only getting more complicated.

Molly is dating one of my players, a guy who is standup, according to my nephew Matthew, who also plays for me. It didn’t stop me from occupying the front yard the first time he came over, swiftly chopping wood with a very sharp ax for our fireplace. No matter that it was the middle of August. Lily had just chuckled under her breath while Molly told me I was so embarrassing.

I can’t be too hard on her, though. For as much as she’s into makeup, hair, and boys, she’s also the smartest person to come out of the Nash family since Keaton. She wants to be a surgeon and is already registered for some pre-college summer courses once school ends in June. My kid, a surgeon. For someone who barely made it to class most days, I’m floored. And so freaking proud.

Meanwhile, Jeremy is my mini-me and gearing up to be quite the heartbreaker. He’s only in eighth grade, and already he’s had about ten different “girlfriends,” if you can call them that. Hanging out with a group of seven kids at the movies doesn’t necessarily a couple make, but that is how Lily and I started our attraction, so I guess I have to watch out for that.

He’s also got one hell of an arm. One so hot that the AAU program nearby recruited him as a ten-year-old pitcher. His team almost made the Little League World Series. My son could have the career I was always meant to have before the car accident, but I have to keep him grounded. He needs to not only work hard but not flame out before his chance at that comes.

“Shut up and make more coffee,” I tell my little brother.

“Not if you require that jet fuel. Remember those grounds he told us about in the group chat?” Forrest says.

“Jesus, I tried them and it was like drinking electric sludge.” Penelope shudders.

I chuckle under my breath. “You’re all a bunch of wusses.”

“No, sweetheart, we just don’t need an IV of caffeine to our veins,” my wife jokes, sending me a flirty wink.

I take a moment to appreciate the way her black leggings mold over the petite curves of her waist, and when she bends to grab something in the fridge, my eyes are glued to her ass.

“Your pancakes are burning.” Ames snorts, and I almost smack him over the head with my spatula.

“Breakfast is ready!” I holler, even though half of the people in this family are standing in the kitchen.

We all gather around the makeshift table that Presley and Ryan put together. It includes the original dining room table that seats eight, the kitchen table and those chairs, a card table they found in the garage plus some folding chairs, a desk from the small reading nook, some of the patio chairs, and then some other chairs they found in bedrooms throughout the house. We’re all smushed together around the hodgepodge set up, and the noise level in here could rival a Steelers game.

Everyone is talking over each other, shoveling breakfast food in their mouth, and laughter can be heard for miles around this property. You can feel it in this room, love. If there were ever a way to capture that feeling and bottle it up, this dining table would be a great place to start.

“I’d like to propose a toast.” I clear my throat and raise my orange juice glass.

I see Keaton, my older brother, kind of blanch at my taking over this gesture. But I cooked the meal, so he’s going to have to live with it. I’m sure he’ll steal the show tomorrow at our Christmas Day dinner.

“To the woman who started this all, who raised four rowdy boys, spoils her grandchildren, and loves every one of us