“And this is Layla’s baby sister Zoey,” I offer softly. “Zoey, this is my father.”
“You can call me Walter, little one,” he tells her kindly, using a tone I’ve never heard before. “Now tell me everything.”
I hesitate, but luckily Layla spins a story between truth and lie. She tells him about me courting her, visiting her at the diner, wooing her off her feet, helping her with Zoey and her health issues, and eventually asking her to marry me. She makes me seem like a hero when I am anything but.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d found someone, lad?” Walter finally asks when she’s finished.
“I think he was nervous,” Layla teases, answering for me, and it’s a good thing, really, because I didn’t have a clue what I would say. The truth is, I didn’t want to explain how I stalked her and how I’m obsessed with her. But now that she’s here at my side, smiling at him and looking at me like everything she just said is the gospel truth, my darker compulsions seem justified.
“Alaric nervous?” Walter laughs, leaning in. “I’ve only ever seen that once—”
“Dad, no.” I groan, knowing where this is going.
“Tell us,” Layla whispers like they are both in on the secret. Sighing, I lean back.
“He was about ten,” my dad starts, telling them a truly embarrassing story about my childhood. Layla and Zoey both laugh, hanging on his every word, and despite my embarrassment, I can’t help the huge smile forming on my lips. My dad likes them, that much is obvious, but more than that, he’s welcoming them into the fold, into our small family of two. They fit right in here in my little family like they always belonged.
We stay for a few hours, and my dad gives them enough truth about my childhood to make it seem normal while keeping out the dark details. He never once stumbles over questions they ask and even turns it back on them. When he finds out how they spent some time living in foster care, I can sense his own anger and worry. He already cares for them, and since I’ve said they are my family, he’s immediately accepted them as his own.
They are his, too, after all, and he might be blind and old, but he would kill anyone in this world to keep them safe.
“I better get the girls home, Pops,” I say eventually, reluctant to leave. Usually, it’s silent as we struggle to talk about anything other than work, but like with my life, Layla has filled it with joy and laughter once more.
After kissing his cheek, Layla says goodbye with a promise to come back soon, and then Zoey hugs him and runs after her sister.
I follow them, not wanting them out of my sight, and my hand is on the door when my father’s voice stops me. “She’s a keeper, lad. She obviously cares for you, and you her. I’m proud of you. Keep them safe and don’t be strangers.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “Thanks, Dad.”
For some reason, his approval solidifies that I did the right thing by making Layla mine.
I hurry after my girls, feeling oddly choked up at the moment with my father. He doesn’t often say he’s proud of me. In fact, I can count the number of times I’ve heard it on one hand, but today he did, all because of the woman stealing my heart.
Who am I kidding? She stole it a long time ago.
I pull the car around and help them in. Once they are both inside, Zoey leans between the seats to look at us. “Layla, can I stay at a friend’s house tonight?”
“What friend?” Layla asks, frowning back at her.
“Her name is Maddie. I met her at school. I told you about her. Well, she invited me for a sleepover!” Zoey is clearly excited with the idea of sleeping at a friend’s house. Unlike Zoey’s blatant glee of sleeping somewhere that isn’t in her bed, it’s obvious Layla isn’t as keen. Her concern for her sister’s well-being has been a constant in her life, and letting go of the reins is hard for her. Instead of giving Zoey the thumbs-up, Layla looks to me for advice. I lean into her, take her hand in mine, and plant a chaste kiss on it.
“It won’t hurt Zoey to start being more social. She’s a very smart girl and knows to call us if she doesn’t feel comfortable.”
“Right here.” Zoey pouts, making me grin.
“She can take care of herself and knows not to do anything too strenuous. Let her go so she can have some fun. She deserves it after all she’s been through,” I murmur.
Layla debates it, I see it in her eyes, so I sweeten the pot. I grip her chin and pull her closer, dropping my voice so only she can hear. “If we have a night to ourselves, I can take you out to dinner and spoil you.”
“Like a date?” she whispers, her gaze falling to my lips before flickering back up to mine.
“Why not? Isn’t that what married couples do? Have date nights?”
She frowns, contemplating my proposal, so I kiss her, stealing her worries. “Where is your sense of adventure, Layla? We can have a nice meal, go out, hell, even see a movie. Whatever you want. Just us.”
She nibbles on her lip as I wait for her answer, and I’m not sure why, but for some reason, this is important to me.
“Don’t you think we are doing this backwards?” she finally responds. “We are already married. Do you think now is the time to date?” She laughs, the sound like sunshine breaking through the clouds.