Page 315 of Romeo

Jasper corrected himself immediately. “Granny.”

That earned him nothing.

He stopped several feet in front of her, his shoulders settling before he spoke. “I owe you an apology. I should’ve waited for you. I should’ve made sure Fiona had her family standin’ here before we got this far. I didn’t, and that was wrong.”

Something behind my ribs tightened.

There was no joke hiding inside the apology. No clever wording that allowed him to avoid taking responsibility. He had simply admitted he was wrong.

Granny’s expression didn’t soften. “You took my granddaughter out of my house in the middle of the night.”

“She came with me.”

“I know she did. I raised her. If you’d dragged her anywhere against her will, we wouldn’t be having this conversation because they’d still be trying to identify what was left of you.”

More than one Son murmured his agreement.

Jasper nodded as though Granny discussing his potential dismemberment was completely reasonable. “Fair.”

“And then you decided to marry her without bothering to let one damn person who loves her know.”

Jasper glanced at me before looking back at Granny. “There wasn’t much time.”

“There is always enough time for a phone call.”

“You’re right.” His jaw tightened slightly. “I would’ve made it up to her.”

A low sound came from King.

Jasper turned his head, and the two men stared at one another again.

“There was a reason I moved fast,” Jasper said.

King’s expression didn’t shift. “There’s always a reason when one of you assholes decide rules don’t apply.”

“I’m not askin’ you to like it.”

“No danger of that.”

“Good. Then we understand each other.”

The room went quiet again, but the knot inside me began to loosen. Jasper could have joked his way around all of this. He could have tried to charm Granny, let Gator interfere, or allowed his mother to fight the battle for him.

He didn’t.

He stood there and took every bit of their anger because he had made the decision too.

Because I mattered enough for him to stand there and defend it.

Granny studied him another long moment before glancing toward Father Benoit, who had developed the remarkably patient expression of a man accustomed to weddings going very differently from whatever plan existed when he arrived.

“Well.” Granny gave a small harrumph and adjusted the purse hanging from her arm. “We’re here now.”

Georgie’s head snapped toward her. “What?”

Granny ignored him.

“Granny,” he complained. “You cannot seriously be going along with this nonsense.”