The only good thing about it all was that—thanks to the counseling sessions his parents had forced him to attend after Calypso died—he was fully aware of his overprotective tendencies and how much damage they could do to an innocent soul. So he fought against those urges every hour of every day. Esme would not grow up suffocated by his need to keep her safe.
His daughter would grow up free and a bit wild, just as he’d done.
Given that two weekends ago, she’d used the aftermath of a rainstorm as a chance for a gleeful mud bath, he thought he was doing okay. Especially since she’d enticed him into the mud bath with her delighted laughter. They’d lain there, two very cold and muddy people under the bright winter sunshine, and the world hadn’t fallen down.
Esme hadn’t caught the flu or some weird mud-borne disease. No, she’d had the time of her life, and he’d taken another breath. Maybe he’d be fully able to relax by the time she reached adulthood. One could only hope. Because having to constantly battle his protectiveness was more exhausting than any game he’d ever played.
Beside Danny, Gabe’s friend Harry said, “What are you two whispering about like little old ladies?” His voice was a deep rumble, his clean-shaven jaw as square and solid as his shoulders.
“My baby bro doesn’t know when to shut up,” Jake muttered while Danny refused to look the least bit cowed.
A rustling swayed through the audience before Harry could respond, a gentle wind of expectation. On its heels came the first sounds of a lilting melody, the composition done especially for Gabriel and Charlotte by Charlotte’s friend Aroha—who now sat at the grand piano at the far end of the church.
Jake had a moment to notice that her dress was the same deep blue as Juliet’s, but no time to process that knowledge before the doors at the back swung open. Two adorable little flower girls walked in side by side, both dressed in their “girl princess” dresses—as described to Jake by his daughter. Those dresses were white and calf-length with skirts fluffed out by netting and belt sashes of a blue identical to Aroha’s dress.
His heart squeezed as it always did at seeing Esme’s sweet face.
The two girls wore flower crowns woven with miniature frangipani flowers, bright green leaves, and tiny white blooms, and carried little baskets full of blush-pink petals. Their shoes were sparkly and buckled securely on two pairs of tiny feet, their smiles enormous. They did their assigned task with teeth-biting-down-on-lower-lip concentration, carefully scattering the petals as they walked.
Esme looked at him at one point and beamed, her smile gap-toothed as a result of the loss of her first baby tooth—a lower central incisor—just a week earlier.
He mouthed, Good job, Boo.
Her smile expanded to cover her whole face, and his heart, it threatened to explode out of his chest. He’d done so much wrong in his life, but somehow he was getting this right. His little girl knew that she was loved, that she was the most important thing in his life.
Movement at the doors, three adult women following the flower girls. One was family: Sailor’s wife, Ísa; the second, Charlie’s detective friend, Mei. However, it wasn’t Ísa or Mei who held his attention. It was the tall, curvy, dangerously sexy woman behind Mei.
Jake’s mind short-circuited.
“She wasn’t at the rehearsal,” he found himself muttering.
“Did you forget, old man?” Danny murmured sotto voce. “Charlotte said her other friend from pastry class couldn’t come to the rehearsal but that you’re supposed to partner her today.”
What?!
“Anyway,” Danny continued, “pretty sure she isn’t in any danger of messing up the aisle-walk deal. In case you didn’t notice, there’s only a single lane.”
Jake fought the lowering of his brows—the last thing they needed was for him to be caught glowering in his brother’s wedding photos. His entire family already thought he needed to lighten up; his parents were gentle in their encouragement that he go out, let his hair down, but Danny straight up called him an “old man in a young man’s skin suit.”
His baby brother liked to live recklessly.
As for Gabe and Sailor, they’d matured young for different reasons, so were less on his case, but he saw the concerned looks when they thought he wasn’t looking. He figured they’d ease up as he continued to be successful in his career and in raising Esme—happiness came in different forms, and his came from giving his daughter the best life he could.
So yeah, no glaring at Danny in the photos.
And no staring at this sharp-tongued ghost from his past.
Juliet had disappeared without warning halfway through their final year of high school; student gossip had it that her family had decided to transfer her to a stricter school after she nearly got suspended for the third time. Calypso had been so anxious, certain that Juliet wouldn’t leave without telling her, but a sympathetic teacher had confirmed that Juliet had officially transferred out of their school.
Gone without a trace—at least until Calypso finally began to receive emails and texts from her friend a month later. At the time, Jake hadn’t asked too many questions about what had caused Juliet’s sudden departure. He’d had bigger issues to deal with. But seeing her now, it brought it all back—the excitement and innocence of their teenage years, the way Juliet and Calypso used to pass notes in class, the occasions he’d caught them giggling hysterically together.
He also remembered skinny and lanky Juliet spending half her life in the principal’s office while small and plump Calypso had been an honors student destined for a top university. But when a befuddled Jake had asked Calypso why she hung around with the troublemaking Juliet, his girlfriend’s defense had been staunch.
“You don’t know her,” she’d said in that quiet way she had of doing, until he had to lean close to hear her. “Jules and I’ve been friends since primary school. She’s funny and kind and she’s never once let me down. You should give her a chance.”
Jake had been determined to try to get along with Juliet for Calypso’s sake—and he had to admit that she’d made him laugh more than once with her acerbic comments and razor-sharp wit—but they’d never been anything but wary acquaintances at best. Calypso had been the bond between them.
Well, Calypso’s skinny best friend with what used to be elbows of doom—she’d utilized those pointy weapons on him more than once—had become distinctly and sensually curvy, her hair sleek and straight rather than a fuzzy braid. But in her eyes lived the troublemaking spark that had always made him want to grind his teeth.
Behind Juliet came Molly, her smile gorgeous. Her hair was dark, her body draped in a midnight-blue dress that fell gracefully to the floor, and she held a small frangipani bouquet bursting with color, the same as Juliet and Mei and Ísa.
The bridal party came to stand across the aisle from the groomsmen. They were uneven in number because Aroha was at the piano, but Harry would stop by the piano on the way out, offer her his arm as her assigned escort.
Jake’s mother, already seated in the front pew, waved Esme and Emmaline over, and the two girls took their seats between their grandparents. Jake could feel the pride and joy emanating from both his parents.