Page 116 of So That Happened
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LIAM
A couple years ago, if my brother had told me he wanted to get married, I would’ve laughed.
And if he insisted it were true, I would’ve had no choice but to assume that he’d lost a bet or that it was all part of some elaborate prank.
But then, I saw him with Mindy, and everything changed.
Changed to the point that my older brother—the former ultimate bro, ladies’ man, and party boy—made the announcement that he was permanently forgoing the lothario lifestyle. And then, subsequently decided that he was going to take this step without indulging in a bachelor party.
My jaw dropped so hard that it almost fell off when he vetoed my (albeit very reluctant) suggestion of a bachelor weekend in Vegas (too loud, busy and dirty for my tastes. But, I’m the best man, so if Luke wanted to go, I would’ve made the sacrifice).
Luke also didn’t want to rent a limo and go down to Panama City Beach or Daytona, thank goodness. Or even have a boys’ night out at home in Atlanta. He’d had enough of those over the years, he said.
The one thing he did want?
Ax throwing.
Yup. You heard me right. He wanted to go chuck sharp blades at targets on the wall like we were lumberjacks.
I was mildly surprised. I didn’t think Luke had ever even been to a forest, never mind cut down a tree. He’s a city boy, through and through.
But he was set on his decision. Apparently, Mindy has a thing for lumberjacks—which was something I obviously asked zero follow-up questions about.
This is why, four hours after pulling up to the most gorgeous, picturesque guest ranch you could ever imagine, I’m spending my Friday night in a field with a bunch of grown men. Throwing things.
Even more unbelievably, everyone seems to be enjoying this. It’s a warm, balmy evening, and the dusky air is sweet and heavy. There’s about twenty of us, standing on a huge lawn adorned with targets. In the distance, the sun dips below the rolling hills, pouring a golden hue on everything.
For an athletic guy, Luke is surprisingly awful at the activity—though that may be the four shots of tequila. I chuckle as he winds up and chucks the ax so haphazardly that one of his buddies yells “duck!” and falls to the ground in a stop-drop-n-roll motion.
In contrast, the guy on my left wields his ax over his head and fires with ease. It spins through the air in a graceful arc before sticking dead in the wooden target. He lets out a “whoop!” and punches the air.
A dark-haired man stands behind him, sipping his beer and looking on in amusement. “Easy there, Conor. Don’t throw your back out, old man.”
The ax-throwing guy smirks. “Your sister already threw my back out last night.”
“Gross, dude!”
A lot of shoving follows that comment, and I smile as I look away.
I love how these guys can casually laugh and joke about their relationships in public—even if the joke is just that one of them is apparently sleeping with the other’s sister (though he’s wearing a wedding ring, so I assume it’s serious).
Annie and I have been keeping things between us on the down low, at her request, until we see where things go. I was a little surprised when she asked… I was prepared to go straight to Luke to work out a solution for our company HR. But, I guess, for now, it makes sense. I’m just glad to be away from the office this weekend so we can be out in public together.
Soon—once the funding’s in place and Annie feels more comfortable—we can take next steps at work. Or I hope we can take next steps…
And now my mind is squarely on a certain auburn-haired spitfire. What she would say if she could see me right now…
Probably a lot of inappropriate lumberjack jokes.
I turn back to my target and fire the ax. It moves quickly, like a bullet, before piercing the heart of the target.
Bullseye.
“Nice one, man!” The dark-haired guy gives me an appreciative nod. Behind him, the guy he called Conor is still steadfastly pounding ax after ax into the target.
“Thanks.” I stick out my hand. “Liam.”