Page 162 of Sheltering You

“She’s fine.” He crossed the room and clamped his hand on Derrick’s shoulder, eyes twinkling. “I heard her tell Leila the clock has never moved so slowly.”

Derrick couldn’t stop his grin.

Michael gave him a quick hug, slapping him on the back. “You got a good one, bro.” He stepped away and checked his watch. “T minus fifteen. As soon as you hear the music, get in place. You remember everything you need to do?”

“It’s just the family. It’s not that complicated.”

Michael was chuckling as he walked out.

Derrick glared at the closed door, then turned to Dad and Bryan. “You’d think we were performing for the president or something.”

“Son.” Dad peered at him over his glasses. “This is the most important day of your life—and your bride’s. Don’t screw it up.”

Yeah. Dad was right. “I’m not going to. Not the wedding. And not the marriage.”

“That’s my boy.” Dad squeezed his forearm. “I’m sure your mother is looking for me. You boys good in here?” At Derrick’s nod, he said, “I’ll see you out there.”

The door closed behind him, and Derrick checked his watch. Just a few more minutes.

Bryan perched on the arm of the sofa while Derrick settled in one of the club chairs.

“You’re gonna be a husband,” Bryan said. “And in a few months, a father. Are you ready for that?”

Derrick had blurted his marriage proposal before he’d really thought about it. Yeah, he’d planned to marry Jasmine almost from the first second he’d met her. But a baby? One that wasn’t his?

There hadn’t been a lot of time to process—or pray about—that.

He’d spent a lot of time in prayer after he’d proposed. Hours on his knees, asking God for guidance. Because if he wasn’t up for the job, or this wasn’t God’s plan for his life, then he needed to back out now, before it was too late.

As much as he wanted Jasmine, and as much as it would hurt both of them, he wasn’t about to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

The more time he spent in prayer, the more certain he was of his path.

“The kid’s not going to look like me,” he said, “or have Wright blood in her veins. But she’s mine.”

“She?” Bryan’s eyebrows lifted.

“Yeah.” Derrick hoped she’d resemble his beautiful bride. “We found out a couple days ago. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. We’re gonna do the whole gender reveal thing after the honeymoon.”

“A cousin for Grant’s little girl.”

They’d learned that news on Christmas when Summer and Grant had presented a snow-white cake that, when cut, had spilled pink M&M’s all over the table.

Bryan was grinning. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It doesn’t matter who her biological father is. She’ll be my daughter. She’s meant to be my daughter. She is my daughter.” He considered his brother’s question again. “Am I ready?”

The music started—a CD playing over Sam’s sound system because they hadn’t been able to find a single suitable musician available on two weeks’ notice in the middle of the holiday season.

Derrick popped to his feet. “Can you ever be ready for something like this?”

Bryan pushed off from his perch. “I suppose if you thought you were ready, that would only prove arrogance.”

Maybe. Derrick didn’t know if he was supposed to feel confident or terrified or what.

All he felt was eager to make Jasmine his wife.

As he followed Bryan down the hall, he inhaled the scent of flowers. Jasmine. Sweet and strong, just like the woman who’d chosen the name when she’d escaped her past.