Page 319 of Romeo

Granny took his hand and placed the ring in his palm, then folded his fingers carefully around it.

“When you put this on my girl’s hand,” she said quietly, “you remember what it means.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Romeo

By the time Father Benoit finished making it legal, Mama had cried twice, Aunt Marabella had cried once while denying the accusation, and Gator had somehow turned the Bourbon Bar into a reception without ever admitting the women had taken complete control of his establishment.

The place was packed. Food covered nearly every available surface, music rolled through the room beneath overlapping conversations, and Bourbon Kings were drinking beside the Sons of Hell like they hadn’t started out on opposite sides of a pissed-off grandmother with access to a private jet. Kids had taken over the dance floor before most of the adults finished eating, and every few minutes somebody moved another table because apparently Mama and Aunt Marabella still weren’t satisfied with what they had accomplished in a handful of hours.

I barely noticed any of it.

My wife was dancing.

The word had been circling my head since I slid Granny’s ring onto Fiona’s finger and Father Benoit pronounced us husband and wife. It didn’t feel strange. That surprised the hell out of me. I’d expected some moment when reality hit hard enough to knock the breath out of me, but mostly it felt like the world had finally caught up with something I had known for almost a year.

Fiona was mine.

More importantly, I was hers.

She had kicked off the shoes Mama brought her and was barefoot in the middle of the dance floor, her ivory dress moving around her legs while she held Charlie beneath his arms and spun him in a circle. His laughter carried over the music as his feet flew out behind him, and Fiona laughed with him until she had to slow down before they both ended up on the floor.

A crowd of kids danced around them—if what they were doing could be called dancing. Cameron appeared to be directing most of it with the authority of a tiny dictator while two younger kids ignored him completely and made up their own moves. Charlie wriggled until Fiona put him down, then immediately grabbed both of her hands and began jumping in place.

I couldn’t look away from her.

Yesterday, Charlie had been Fiona’s nephew in my mind. I knew his face from the pictures she sent me and the stories that slipped naturally into our conversations. I knew she loved him. I had always known that.

Now I understood what I had been looking at all those months.

Fiona’s entire face changed when she watched him.

There was no regret there. No longing to rearrange his life or take something from Frank and Claudia. The fear she’d carried into that bedroom when she finally told me the truth made even less sense while I watched her now. Frank was several feet away with Claudia tucked against his side, both of them watching Charlie with the easy attention of parents who knew exactly where their kid was without needing to hover over him every second. Fiona fit into that family exactly where she wanted to be.

She had given Charlie parents.

Then somehow life had given her a way to stay close enough to love him too.

At fifteen fucking years old, my wife had understood something about love that grown adults screwed up every day. Sometimes loving somebody meant choosing what was best for them even when it cut you open.

She had been afraid I would think less of her for that.

That still made me want to find every person who had ever made her believe love came with that kind of judgment and introduce them to the unpleasant side of my personality.

“She needs to know.”

King’s voice came from beside me.

I didn’t look away from Fiona. I’d known he was nearby. Hard not to notice a man that size moving through a room, especially when he had spent the last several hours watching me like he was waiting for the marriage certificate to dry before beating my ass.

“I know.”

King stopped beside me at the edge of the dance floor, a beer in one hand. He wasn’t wearing the expression he’d had when he stormed into the bar behind Granny, but I wasn’t stupid enough to mistake that for forgiveness. He was tolerating me because Fiona had married me willingly and because there was a bigger problem sitting somewhere outside this room.

“When are you planning to tell her?” he asked.

Fiona lifted Charlie again when he reached for her, settling him against her hip before swaying with him to a song neither of them was actually following. His small hand disappeared into her hair, and she smiled as she untangled his fingers.