Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,84

… even if it had been hammering on my brain harder than ever since Keaton had proposed.

His moving on seemed to spark something in me. What was I doing? I lived in a town that was the epitome of my worst nightmare, cutting hair and fighting fires. Not because I particularly liked to, but because I was average at it and it made me good money. Was that really the kind of life to live?

I wind up, aiming for Forrest, who stands at the plate holding a bat. He whacks the air, connecting with a piece of the ball, but not the full meat of it so that it soars. Fletcher jogs about twenty feet to catch it, and it lands in his glove. He holds his closed fist up and smiles.

“Got it. You suck, Forrest!” he taunts his twin.

I chuckle, just glad to be out on the field again, even if it is little league size.

“Shut the fuck up, Fletch. If Bowen wasn’t actually pitching at me, I’d be able to hit. Ease up, old man.” He points at me with his bat.

“Can’t help it that you’re the worst out of all of us,” I half-joke.

“Yeah, clearly Keaton sees you as the best man.” Fletch sulks again as he tosses the ball back.

I toss it to him, playing a little catch, while I talk. “Oh, come on, Fletch. You two will be each other’s best men, and Keaton asked me to be his with the intention of him being mine someday. Not that it will happen, but we’ve all got each other covered.”

Fletcher nods, looking at Forrest. “You better ask me to be your best man, or I’ll give you an Indian burn so hard, your arm will catch fire.”

These two are actual children. Seriously … they’re practically children compared to me. Four years might not seem like much, but they’re the babies of the family and have always been treated as such. They’re goofballs, troublemakers, and general pains-in-my-ass.

Mostly Forrest, whose mouth and brains land him in hot water more times than I can count on a daily basis. But Fletcher is the one I worry about. He’s the brother who keeps me up at night, the one whose name I listen for on my firefighter-issued police scanner. He’s almost ten months sober, and he’s doing great. But before this? He was a mess.

“Don’t worry, dipshit, I’ll be your best man. But I won’t ask you. Not because I wouldn’t, but fuck no am I getting married.” Forrest makes a face as if he’s just sucked on a lemon.

“Why not?” I’m curious as I lob him an easy pitch, and he thwacks it, sending Fletcher running after the nice hit.

My reasoning for never having to ask Keaton to be my best man is that I won’t ever love a woman the way I love Lily. Why would I get married if my whole heart wasn’t in it? I’ve never thought marriage and a family were stupid … as I suspect Forrest does. I just know it’s no longer in the cards for me.

Forrest shrugs, tapping the bat into the orange dirt on home plate. “Marriage isn’t for me, bro. I don’t need to be tied down; I don’t need someone nagging at me. Kids?”

He shudders, and I laugh because this is just so Forrest.

“Hey, if that’s what you want, there is nothing wrong with it.”

Only my two younger brothers can make me smile anymore. Their antics and opinions are just too funny not to.

“What’re we talking about?” Fletch asks, winded from his jog to the middle of the park to retrieve the baseball.

“How Bowen and I are never shacking up with a wife.” Forrest grabs the water bottle he set by the fence.

“Oh, why, because he can’t marry Lily?” Fletch asks.

I stop, my heart ricocheting in my chest at his question. “No, who ever said that?”

“Come on, brotha. We’re not fucking blind. We mighta been in middle school, but we remember the accident. We also remember how much sexual tension there is in a room with you two. Jesus, even the other day, I thought you might rip her clothes off with your teeth in the middle of Keaton’s proposal.”

Fletcher says all this like it’s a matter of fact. And his twin nods, raising his eyebrow at me.

“And now you have to be the best man, while she’s the maid of honor? Awkward much?”

“Why would it be awkward?” I ask as if I don’t know just how fucking awkward