The bonfire crackles as the sun starts to set over the lake. All around, family members are talking, carrying on like they haven’t seen each other in years, instead of months. For some of us, it’s only been weeks. I know we have it lucky, being able to visit whenever we want. I have teammates whose parents are too old to travel or, for whatever reason, they’re not on speaking terms. I can’t imagine not talking to my mom or dad on any given day. I still harbor some resentment over the fact my father was missing for the first ten years of my life. I know, it wasn’t his fault or my mother’s, but the pang of missing important moments with him still lingers.

The women are all gathered together, forming a circle around my soon to be wife. Each day, I wake and pinch myself, to make sure I’m not dreaming. My life is my dream. Peyton and I are going to be married. I had hoped we’d have set a date by now, but she wants to finish school first. I get it. However, the season is approaching fast and I’m going to be tied up, hopefully until the first weekend of February. It’s a dream, leading the Portland Pioneers to the Super Bowl, but not one that’s out of reach. Our off-season acquisitions put us high on the depth charts and the rookie sensation we drafted is sure to give us the boost we need to get over the expansion hump.

Their laughter makes me smile. Even from here, I know they’re looking at the wedding book Peyton has meticulously put together. Everything from flowers, to dresses and color schemes. Each section of her binder is organized by season. I have yet to fully look through it, except when she’s sitting beside me and assumes I’m not paying attention to her. The thing is, I’m always watching her, memorizing the way she flips the pages and what season lights up her eyes - Christmas. Peyton won’t come out and tell me it’s what she wants, she doesn’t have to. Her expression says it all. And yet, we both know it’s about impossible to have a winter wedding with my schedule.

“Do you ever feel like they’re talking about you?” Quinn nods toward the group. Not a single one of them is looking around to see if anyone is staring at them. They’re too busy oohing and aahing over the collection Peyton is showing them.

“They are talking about me,” I tell him. “That’s Peyton’s wedding book or bible.”

“Ah,” Quinn says, almost as if he understands.

“Yep.” I ask Quinn if he wants something to drink as I get up to head to the cooler. He tells me he’s good but that he’ll take one of the cookies sitting out on the tray. Luckily, for me, the cooler is near the love of my life and it gives me an opportunity to be in her presence for a few seconds. It’s funny to think I spent most of my life with her, growing up next to her, and yet I can’t get enough of her. During the season, the few days we’re apart are the hardest of my week. I don’t care how many times I’m sacked on Sundays—well I do care, but it’s different—missing her is a pain I can’t describe. Even though I know I’m going to see her, my heart still breaks each time we have to say good-bye.

Standing behind Peyton and the rest of the female contingent, I pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. It’s my mother who tells Peyton she can’t have a winter wedding and the dejected sigh and almost too quiet “I know” really hits me square in the chest.

“You look lost,” my dad says as he stands next to me. “Unless you’re admiring.”

I laugh because all you can see are the backsides of everyone. “Just listening.”

My dad reaches into the cooler and pulls out two beers, handing me one. “Let’s take a walk.”

“I need to deliver a cookie to Quinn.” However, my dad doesn’t care and puts his arm on my shoulder, directing me toward the darkened beach. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope,” he says as we trudge through the sand. “Just want to talk to my son for a minute, away from everyone else.”

We walk until our feet start to sink into the wet sand from the receding tide. “What’s on your mind?”

He laughs. “Not mine, yours. I’m not kidding when I said you looked lost back there. What’s going on?”

I sigh heavily and take a quick drink of the bottle of beer. Not my favorite, but right now I don’t care. “I’m fairly certain Peyton wants to get married around Christmas, but she won’t come out and tell me.”

My dad is silent as we stand there listening to the ocean lap at the shores. For the most part, the beach is private and the only people out here are the homeowners. Long put away are the pile of surf and wake boards we had out earlier.

“So why not just propose the date to her?”

“Because I can’t. It’s during season and it’s not like I can take the time needed off.”

“Have you looked at the calendar?” he asks. I shake my head and pull out my phone. It’s like a light bulb goes off as a smile spreads across my face.

---

Later that night, Peyton and I lie in bed, facing each other. It’s times like this when I wish we had rented a hotel room, but her parents would be hurt. Of course, I should be thankful they allow me to stay the night with her. I think they know if I weren’t allowed, she wouldn’t stay here.

“You looked like you were having a good time going through your book tonight.”

“I was,” she says. “It’s nice to be here with everyone instead of exchanging emails about ideas. Where did you go with your dad?”

“You noticed?”

“I always notice, Noah. As soon as you started walking away, I knew.”

I slide a bit closer to her. “Did you watch me walk away?” I ask, teasing her.

Thankfully, the moonlight is beaming through the window because without it, I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s blushing. I run my thumb over the pinkness of her cheek and smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Tell me what you want, Peyton. You know I’ll give it to you.” She doesn’t say anything, although I can see it in her eyes; she has so much to say. “Will you marry me?” I ask her.

Peyton grins. “I’ve already said yes. You don’t have to ask me again.”

I inch closer and rest my hand on her hip. “I wasn’t finished with my question. Peyton, will you marry me on Christmas day in front of our friends and family in the same church where my parents were married?” I leave out the part where we mourned her father so many years ago.

“Noah?”

“It’s a Tuesday, Peyton. I know this is what you want. I see your face light up each time you’re looking through your winter section. And as it turns out, we’ll have a bye the following weekend so we can go away for a few days. Our honeymoon won’t be much, but we’ll be together.”

Peyton launches herself forward and presses her lips to mine. “Are you sure, Noah?”

“Without a doubt, Peyton. I just want to marry you and if you want a Christmas wedding, we’ll make it happen.”

“I love you so much,” she says against my lips. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do,” I tell her as I pull her closer. As much as I want to make love to her, we can’t. I won’t disrespect her parents in their home. Instead, we make out like teenagers, pausing only to talk about wedding plans.

“Are you going to ask your dad or Quinn to be your best man?”

Her question gives me pause. For months, I’ve battled this question in my mind. Both men, for different reasons, are my best friends and it’s hard to quantify which one will mean more to me. I’m not sure either of them expects me to ask them, so it will be a surprise when I finally do.

“I don’t know. I’m struggling with it.”

Peyton sets her hand on my chest and her head on my shoulder. “Whoever you decide, will be the right choice.”

“I guess I better do it soon, huh?” I feel her smile against my chest.

“Yeah, because Christmas is coming faster than we think.”

“Maybe Santa should marry us.”

Peyton slaps my bare skin; however, she’s laughing which makes the bed shake. “Absolutely not, Noah Westbury… unless we can have the elves as ushers.”

I know she’s joking, but I tell her that yes, we can have elves at our wedding.

---

A Beaumont Wedding comes out this holiday season!