I take a deep breath and repeat what he says, secretly praying Dad doesn’t actually take a swing at Weston.
He hops out and dashes over to help me out of the passenger side.
If I was nervous a second ago, it dissipates when his hands grip my waist to help me hop down. It’s a small gesture but it feels so natural and so correct. I have nothing to worry about because we are the perfect fit.
As we approach the house, all eyes are on us and my stomach does a somersault. It does a backflip when my dad emerges from the back door, a Coors Light in his hand.
He’s pissed.
Mom’s eyes are darting between me and Weston and Dad, wondering what’s going to happen next.
“Sir,” Weston starts.
Someone has turned down the music by the pool because, of course, everyone wants to hear this.
“No, I talk first,” Dad says.
I swallow hard and look at Mom. She shrugs like she hasn’t been able to suss out Dad’s feelings all day.
“My baby girl has had a crush on you since the beginning of the school year. Maybe longer. If I ever hear of you breaking her heart or standing in the way of what she wants to do with her life, I will hunt you down and I will end you. End. You. Do you understand?”
I look at Weston, and he is resolute. His brows knit together.
“Sir, I’m marrying Adelaide. I’ve been looking for her my whole life, without even realizing who or what I was looking for. And I would argue that she’s not a baby girl. She’s a grown woman with choices. She has her whole life ahead of her—her choices are limitless—and any person who would stand in the way of that is a fool. And by that I mean, anyone who would stand in the way of her career, her education”—Weston pauses—“or her relationship.”
The two men I love most stare each other down for a few moments, but neither of them breaks. Finally, Weston puts his hand out. Dad looks at it, looks at Weston, and takes it.
I need not worry about everyone gaping at us for the rest of the night. Moments later, Hunter shows up with her new beau, and their story is the real head turner of the party. Thank god for my best friend, who knows how to create a diversion whether she means to or not.
She introduces me to him, even though I know who he is. I try not to giggle, but I’m so surprised and overwhelmed.
“Come on, let’s have some cake,” I say to them.
After giving a short speech to thank everyone for coming, I cut up the cake and serve it. Half carrot cake with cream cheese frosting—my favorite—and half lemon with lemon curd and buttercream.
I have a huge piece of both as Weston murmurs in my ear, “Eat up, buttercup. You’ll be eating for two soon.”
I laugh and nearly choke on the icing. “Too soon. It’s going to take a couple of months at least for my hormones to get straightened out.”
He laughs and inhales my hair, bending down to kiss my neck.
“We’ll see about that.”
Epilogue
Weston
Well, I wasn’t precisely correct about the timing, because it did take a couple of months to get pregnant. But by the time I move her into my house and take her to her first class at the university, she’s already battling morning sickness.
Even having thrown up her breakfast, my angel—my wife—is still as stunning as ever. So stunning that I can see other dudes on campus checking her out as we walk to her classes.
One guy walks over and hands her a flier for a party at his fraternity.
“Nice! Thanks!” she says.
Like hell. I snatch it from her and shove it in the nearest recycling bin.
“What was that all about?”