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Lara tapped his arm. “Stop.”
“Congratulations,” her mother, a lovely older version of Lara, said, opening her arms to him. “Welcome to the family. Bem-vindo à família.”
He hugged her, and she whispered in his ear, “Now let’s work on grandkids.”
Lara shook her head, probably imagining what her mother had said. “Mom, give us a few months before you start pestering us.”
“Hey, I had a chance to talk to his parents last night at dinner. They agree with me,” she said with a triumphant smile.
Troy waved at his parents. “I bet they do.”
“Not you too,” Lara said, winking at him. They’d discussed having babies but decided to wait at least six months, since he was permanently moving to Tulip. He’d decided against working in the family business.
He’d open a management firm in Tulip with his own money. A clean slate. Besides, Mateo would take his place in LA. It only made sense, even if he had to convince his father that even though Mateo wasn’t the first born, he should run the business. Some habits were hard to kick, but the old man would get used to it.
Some of the guests lined up to congratulate them, and in the next thirty minutes he went through the motions, shaking hands and talking to his new friends. In his new house. Enjoying his new life.
“Congrats, brother,” Mateo said.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, before patting his brother’s back. He’d invited Mateo to be his best man, which Mateo declined, and Troy understood. He’d give his brother time to get used to their new relationship. And he was grateful for all he could get. “Michelle okay?”
“Yes, she feels bad couldn’t make it. I texted Lara about it, been sick all day. I’m rushing home after here,” Mateo said.
Troy leaned closer. His mother had mentioned that Michelle had been experiencing bad morning sickness. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything.”
Mateo gave him a hug, squeezing him a bit tighter than usual. “Thanks, man.”
Troy smiled. He squeezed his brother back as a jolt of happiness coursed through him, and finally, the resentment from the past months lessened. He felt his brother came back to him, needed him. Maybe I’m not such a bad person after all.
The wedding planner swung by and told him something about taking pictures by the cake. He glanced around, searching for his wife. He found Lara laughing with her friends.
When she spotted him walking toward her, a glint of love touched her beautiful brown eyes. He stared at her, like the air had been socked from his lungs, happiness and excitement rolling through him. God, he loved her.
“Ready for some cheesy cake pictures?” she asked when he joined her.
“You bet,” he said, lowering his lips to hers.
She’d made him take a chance—on the cake, believing again, and making peace with his past and building a new present and future. And he’d be grateful for her until his very last breath.
