CHAPTER THIRTY
Peyton
“Iwant you to have this.”
I looked up to see my mother walking into her kitchen. Lorelei and I were sitting around my parents’ breakfast table, finalizing everything for my upcoming wedding in a few weeks.
“What’s that?” I asked, looking at the folded baby blue cloth in her outreached hand.
“This belonged to my mother and father, and I’ve been saving it to let you borrow it for your big day. I know they’d want to see you walk down the aisle if they were still with us.” A lump started to form in my throat. I wished they could be there too, but God needed them more than us.
“It’s a handkerchief that belonged to your grandfather,” she went on. “But my mother kept it after he passed and carried it in her pocket.”
“I remember,” I whispered and took the cloth from her. I hadn’t seen the handkerchief in—well I couldn’t remember how long, but it had been a long time since my grandmother passed away.
“You can stuff it in your bra,” Lorelei cut in.
I snorted, and my tears started to slip away. “I’ll do that.”
As we continued to finalize the seating chart, catering menu and various other things I was stressing about, I thought about Booker’s grandmother. He hadn’t said anything, but I knew deep in my heart that he wished she could be there for our big day too. So, I needed to figure out a way.
Today was the day that I’d waited my entire life for. I never thought it would happen because I was the single, divorce lawyer who men were scared to get serious with.
Until Booker.
We were on the same team. We knew what went on in divorces, and even though he was a divorcé himself, we knew what not to do in a marriage to make it work since we’d practically seen or heard it all.
Booker had asked me what I thought about getting married at Sensation. I thought it was perfect. When we met with Savior to ask him if we could use his home because that was where our relationship started, he was delighted to help us.
And free of charge, though for as much as we paid to be members, it should be a wash.
It was truly a blessing and Savior was the sweetest man—besides my fiancé, of course. I’d always thought that people who were into BDSM must be assholes. But what I’d discovered was that being into BDSM didn’t mean that their desire emerged from abuse or domestic violence, and engaging in it didn’t mean that they enjoyed abuse or abusing. Instead, enjoying BDSM was just one facet of someone’s sexuality and lifestyle, and slowly I was starting to learn that I liked the bondage aspect, as well as a being a little submissive.
When I told my family where the wedding was being held, they asked me how we were able to secure a mansion in Beverly Hills. There was no way in Hell that I’d tell them the exact truth, so I’d told them that Booker knew people. It was true.
“Ready?”
I turned to see my dad had walked into the room. It wasn’t Booker’s room, but Carrie’s down the hall. She was letting me borrow it while I got ready. And Booker was getting ready in his.
I smiled at my dad. “I am.”
I expected him to hook his arm out for me to slip my hand in the crook. Instead, he placed both of his hands on my shoulders and looked down on me. “Today’s the day I officially give you to someone else. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Booker will keep you safe and treat you how a man should treat a woman. You did good, kid.”
Tears started to prick my eyes, but I fought them. I couldn’t cry before I walked down the aisle. I couldn’t cry at all. My makeup would turn to shit, and then I’d be late to my own wedding.
“Dad,” I whispered, but he kept going.
“I know I’m supposed to give my speech later, but I just want to talk to you alone for a minute.”
I nodded, still trying to hold my tears at bay.
“I’m not always going to be here for you, and as you got older your mother and I hoped you’d find that one person who would look at you like you were their world. When I watch Booker with you, I know that’s what he’s thinking. You’re not just a woman to him, you’re his everything. And I don’t need him to tell me that. I see it.”
I nodded again, a tear slipping from my eye. I wiped it away and took a deep breath so no more would spill over.
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m comfortable giving you over to him because I know he’ll treat you like the princess you are. I love you, baby girl.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, no longer caring if I messed up my hair or makeup. My dad would always be my first love.
