Jackson growled, making me laugh, but then there was the sound of crunching coming from the two men officiating.
“That’s not bad,” Hurst muttered, pieces of cracker on his lower lip. “Mind if I double dip?”
“Use the side you didn’t bite into. I don’t know what kind of cooties you’ve got,” the captain grumbled, scooping out what looked like cheese dip on his own cracker and popping it into his mouth.
Seeing us watching them, he gave us a thumbs up and a wink, then picked up a piece of cucumber. “S’great on cucumber, better on peppers, though.”
There were a lot of guffaws from the brothers who were all groomsmen, apart from Marcus, who was the best man.
Behind me, I heard a sweet baby voice say, “Bored!”
Yup, Elijah’s daughter might have a limited vocabulary, but she’d mastered the words that conveyed her feelings and wants perfectly.
At eighteen months old, she loved saying yes, no, bored, more, bad, good, and why. Then again, last night, she’d said “Shih” when she’d dropped something, so swearing was coming early.
“Shih!” she squeaked, and I clenched my teeth together to stop myself from bursting out laughing.
I’d chosen her, Gabby, and Sadie as my bridesmaids, but Malcolm and Benny were bridesmen in their suits, with ties that matched the others’ dresses.
Everyone who’d heard her burst out laughing, and the ones who didn’t could be heard asking the laughing ones what’d happened and joining them when they found out.
Jackson squeezed his eyes shut. “I had such high hopes. Such high hopes.”
“For anyone who’s nervous about speaking up, take your time. I also get tongue-tied when I have to speak in front of an audience,” Hurst said into the microphone, leaning on the podium as he turned back to the captain.
Finally, after five minutes, Jackson hissed, “Will you get on with it.”
Hurst turned back around. “Ah, you’re standing up,” he pointed at Marcus—who was obviously standing up given his role in the wedding today. “Do you have any objections?”
“Yeah, speak up, man,” Sam yelled. “You look like a good guy. Do you want to marry her instead?”
My dad was saying that to my husband-to-be’s twin.
Leaning in, I whispered, “Remember how about twenty-five minutes ago, you were apologizing to me for your family?”
“I was apologizing for my grandad.”
“Okay, I’m doing the same for my dad.”
“I dunno,” Ryan shouted. “He looks like a peckerhead. Doesn’t he remind you of someone, Sam?”
This time, it was me who squeezed my eyes shut. “Make that both of my dads.”
“Pssst!” Someone hissed behind me, and when I turned around, it was to see Sadie smiling at me sympathetically with Bronte in her arms.
“Trust me, it makes for great viewing afterward. We’ve watched the recording of our wedding repeatedly, and I upload a portion of it on YouTube each week. I’ve made a killing in subscribers and advertising.”
Looking back at Jackson, I raised my eyebrows and grinned at the wicked smile that overtook his face. “Yeah, I’ve also learned something from that wedding, too. We’re not the only ones who’ll be earning us money on YouTube.”
And with that cryptic remark, he turned back to Hurst, who took a step back and waved at the Captain to take over.
It’d taken a while to get there, but ten minutes later, when Hurst pronounced us husband and wife, I knew I’d love every second of the video of what’d happened. Especially because I fully intended to watch it with every air conditioner in our home on at the time.
Just as Jackson leaned down to kiss me, though, a pair of hands pulled me out of his arms, and I was dipped back over an arm as a different mouth landed on my chin. From the position we were in, I guess it looked like the owner of the mouth was actually kissing me, but I’d stand up with my hand on the Bible to swear it didn’t.
Then, the brothers passed me around one by one, each kissing me while the cousins held Jackson back.
“I swear to God,” he roared, elbowing Ren in the gut. “I didn’t do that at your wedding, you shithead.”
“You kinda did!” Sadie sang, waving at him when he glared at her.
Just as Marcus was moving in to take his place, Jackson broke free and gave him an almighty shove that had him shooting over the ledge between the lawn and the beach with what sounded like a scream.
“Your grandson screams like a girl,” the captain pointed out to Hurst as he rubbed his ear.
“Dances like one, too.”
Jackson pulled me against him and kissed me hard, long, and wet, totally not caring about all of the people watching us.
“I don’t dance, old man,” Marcus yelled, but I couldn’t pull my head away from Jackson’s to see what he was doing. Not that I would have. Kissing him came before a sandy brother.