My Darling Bride(47)

I shake my head. “You taught us to live without you.”

“But you still won’t let me be a father.”

Because I saw the hurt my mother had experienced. I saw her fucking tears. I was there the day she skied off the mountain. I can’t let go of his mistake.

“What about Grandmother’s will? Brody will be cheated out of his marriage share. If you want to be a father, why’ve you stayed silent?”

He cocks his head. “Unfortunately, my mother wrote her wishes, which excluded Brody. Legally, it’s cut and dried. I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

I shake my head. “You could’ve said something.”

“Of course I’m angry for Brody. I’ve offered him money, but he won’t take it.” He exhales. “I’m not here to argue. I saw your announcement and thought we could touch base. I don’t want to regret not making my feelings known now. I don’t want to watch you get hurt on that field again.”

Football is my life. It’s what I clung to like a life support when Mom died, when he sent us away.

I stare at him for a minute, trying to build my anger inside again to respond, and it does come, but something about it tastes of regret too. In thirty years of life, this is the first real conversation my father and I have ever had.

“Fine,” I say grudgingly. “It is good to see you.”

His eyebrow pops up. “Do you really mean that?”

I shrug. Things aren’t perfect between us, but it does mean something that he hunted me down. “Yeah.”

He pats me awkwardly on the shoulder, then steps out of my way to let me open the car door.

He starts to walk away but turns. “If I’m not invited to the wedding, I’d like to host a get-together afterwards at the brownstone. What do you think? Would Brody help?”

I will need to show Emmy off, so it’s pretty much perfect for my plans. I tell him that’s fine and get in my car, watching him walk away. He’s a taciturn man, stern, and decidedly moody. Like me. And he’s never married again, nor has he ever brought another woman around us. Maybe that means something, I don’t know.

I shut the door and hit the call button on the dashboard and hear the line ring for Brody.

“Hey, bro. What’s up?”

I answer, “You would not believe the conversation I just had with Dad. Also, I need you to help him plan a party after the marriage. Nothing fancy. Plain and simple. Can you get in touch with him?”

“You’re moving fast. I’m getting tingles. Sure I can’t talk you out of this?”

“Nope. Emmy is going to marry me. You’re going to get your money, and everyone will be happy.”

There’s a silence on the phone.

“What?”

He groans. “I want you to be happy. You.”

“I will be as soon as football season starts, baby bro.”





Chapter 13


GRAHAM


The night air feels thick with anticipation as I open the door of the Range Rover for Emmy a couple of nights later. She’s waiting for me outside her apartment, and I inhale a sharp breath at how beautiful she is.

Fierce.

Sexy.

And very, very unavailable.

There’s no option where I let her in close.

I simply . . . can’t go there.

I invited Divina into my heart, gave her full access, and she destroyed it.

That wound hasn’t healed. It’s a scar that still burns.

I’m not allowing anyone to make a fresh one.

But, damn, I can appreciate her beauty and take care of her the way a husband should. Protection. A home. She’ll resist me helping her, but part of me wants to see Emmy happy. Can’t deny it. Can’t explain why, but I’m trusting my gut on this and going on instinct.

I open her door, and she steps carefully into the car, her long legs delicately grazing the leather seats.

“You look gorgeous.” My words are husky and deep as my eyes eat her up.

“Oh. Thanks. Jane did my hair.” A blush steals up her cheeks as I take in her red dress. It’s silky, with one shoulder, a Grecian style, the clingy material skimming her hips and thighs. Her hair is up in a fancy updo, and her green eyes pop with dark makeup.

I get in on the other side.

She nudges her head to a lamppost down the street. “There’s a man there. He snapped pics of me leaving for work this morning and was here when I came back. Should I be worried that he’s here?”

I squint at the middle-aged man who’s trying to look nonchalant. He keeps his head down but gazes up at us every few moments as he toys with a camera. “I imagine it’s one of Holden’s guys. The family law firm employs several private investigators. And the engagement announcement came out already.”

She frowns. “Holden’s checking up on us?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. To make sure we’re legit.”

“Why does he care so much?”

“Because if neither myself nor Brody marries by the time we’re forty, then he gets our inheritance. That’s twenty million in his pocket, plus him gloating over it when we’re at Christmas dinner.”

She winces. “Your family sounds . . .”

“Horrible?”