Page 44 of Inevitably Yours

“Just for your peace of mind, I won’t keep your wife up at nights anymore, scout’s honor.” Frank gave him a withering look.

“Don’t make me take you to the shed, because I will.” His voice was threaded with humor as he made his way back to the couch mumbling something about youngins and disrespect.

It had been years since John had been scolded and threatened with physical punishment in a parental way, and even longer since anyone called him a youngin.

“Sorry, I’m just messing with you. It was in poor taste, but you have to cut me a little slack, huh.”

Frank just harrumphed and sipped his coffee. While his face was properly scowled, his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“I’ve been an honorary member of this family for over a year now, and that was the very first time you have ever just left yourself open like that. Can you blame me for walking right in?”

He earned another harrumph for that. He sat back down, and he studied the older man next to him silently. Frank was dying to finish the story of why he owed Francis accessories but was too proud to continue without being asked, even if it was clear he craved the distraction.

John was more than happy to indulge him, and he was curious. “So, I suppose Francis knew Augusta and I were destined from the first day she met me?”

“No, actually.” John waited for Frank to elaborate, but he never did. Well, that was unexpected. John anticipated some amazing tale of Francis’ impeccable skills. On some level, that bothered him just a little.

Doubts he had put to bed started stirring. If Francis didn’t see it the way she did with everyone else, then maybe…No, stop it. You are looking to sabotage yourself because you’re feeling out of control.

But…he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling trapped and out of control at all. He was feeling…content. He smiled when he realized questioning things was habit, not because he was looking for a way out.

“No?”

“Nope. When she first met you, she was worried you were too closed off to even be comfortable in our family, much less in a relationship. But she did say if anyone could break through that hard shell of yours, it would be our Gus. But the rub was, she knew, even before you and your sister came into our lives, that if Erika thought Gus should be with Dax, Gus wouldn’t date anyone else. Not that she wanted Dax, but she wanted Erika’s approval.”

Stories of Tori and Erika’s matchmaking attempts were well known, as was the tale of Augusta and Erika’s rocky start. John witnessed firsthand how Augusta shouldered guilt over everything from leaving her sister at home when she went to live her own life to being ashamed she found Walker attractive in his moments of recovery breakthrough. Both Walker and Augusta had explained it wasn’t a sexual attraction and nothing happened, but John could see Augusta bending over backwards to please people. It’s what she did.

Who she is.

Erika and Augusta were thick as thieves now, but even John remembered when that wasn’t the case, so he could understand Augusta’s reluctance to date anyone if she thought it would upset the apple cart.

“You going to finish your tale before you’re a grandpa again or what?” Now John was wholly invested in the story.

“Hmmm, well Francis set the girls to rights about things. She saw the way Dax looked at Stacy and the looks you and Gus exchanged, but she still wasn’t ready to put her money where her mouth was, no sir-ee. The day of the announcement, but before it happened, my Francis was down. She confided that even though she stopped the girls in their love schemes, she still didn’t think you would let anyone in. Well, after the announcement, she was convinced you wouldn’t.”

John was a little taken aback by Frank’s confession. How was it that obvious to everyone that he’d closed off his heart? Funny, because I didn’t even know I had done so, but Francis knew.

“Did she just give up on me that day?”

“No, son, she never gives up on anyone, she just doesn’t place bets until they are a sure thing.”

“Then what does she do when you take her to Vegas?”

“She shops.”

They shared a laugh—a genuine, heartfelt laugh.

“When did she bet on me?” John asked meekly. He couldn’t explain why it seemed important, he only knew that it was.

“The night you introduced her to her latest obsession, a fine single malt from Islay.” Frank sat down his coffee cup, patted his knee, and rose. He joined Dax and the others who appeared to be playing cards…and betting body modifications?

While John was trying to figure out if the bets were for mods that were desired or mods to be endured, the door between the rooms opened.

Marco stepped through followed by Andy, who was carrying a bundle of blankets and staring at it as if it contained the very moon and stars. And in a way, it did.

To a father…it did.

In his child, a father believed God himself plucked every celestial body from the skies and condensed it into one squirming seven-pound package.

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