Page 47 of The Spring in My Heart

Lauren is looking at her husband-to-be with the most serene smile on her face. She always smiles like that around him. Over the past few months, I’ve learned how rough the road to today has been for both of them. He’s a cool guy, and she’s like a sister to me and has always been great to my A and me. She deserves the best. Chase doesn’t know how lucky he is.

They found great people in each other.

I turn back to the altar, and most people are still looking at Avelyn.

Luciana is staring at Chase, but she doesn’t react. Instead, she looks at me. At that moment, we share a secret. Other than Chase, we seem to be the only two people who know Lauren is back there.

And the moment goes on for a while. Our gazes hold for that long.

“She’s here,” someone whispers, and the crowd erupts in a collective gasp.

Our attention goes to the bride as she glides down the aisle like a dream. Women are dabbing at their eyes. Congressman Davis drapes an arm around his wife’s shoulders. She dabs at her eyes like her daughters, Adrianna, and Winter in the front row—and all the other women. As Lauren reaches the altar, Cam steps down to help her up the steps and hands her up to his brother.

But the bride and groom only have eyes for each other.

“You look amazing,” Chase says.

Lauren’s smile is sweet, and her skin glows brighter. “Thank you.”

I have to look away. It feels like I’m intruding. It wasn’t like this when I got married. It didn’t feel intimate and beautiful. No one in the room was dabbing at their eyes. The occasion was more somber than anything. My ex-wife and her father were the only ones happy. My side of the family tempered their emotion. My mom kept shaking her head at me. She knew it was a mistake.

Hell, I knew it was a mistake.

“I am so happy,” Aunt Millie whispers next to me, pressing a tissue to the corners of her eyes. “My girl deserves it.”

“She does,” I say, touching her shoulder.

“Now we just got to find you a girl.”

Ever since I started working on expanding Winter and Grayson’s penthouse, Grayson’s aunt has been on a kick about finding me someone. “I don’t think I have time for that, Aunt Millie. I’m always on the go with work and Ayla.”

“Bah. Of course you do. You’re a great guy, and you can find yourself a good woman and mom for Ayla.”

A mom for Ayla…that would be a first. It’s also the reason I can’t be with anyone. It would have to be someone who loves her like I do. And I don’t think anyone can.

Plus, I wouldn’t put Ayla in the position to be rejected.

The ceremony is mostly traditional, but as soon as they finish kissing, Justin and Felix break free. When they walk out of the room, Chase is holding Felix’s hand, and Lauren is holding Justin’s.

“You see? Chase loves those boys like they’re his. They’re going to adopt them together,” Aunt Millie points out.

I frown at her. Everyone knows about the adoption process and what Lauren has had to deal with in the past year to get them. What happened to her sister is public. Why is she telling me this?

“There’s someone out there for everyone. Someone that will love you and your little queen,” Aunt Millie insists.

I would love to find that woman. I just don’t know where to look.

An hour later, I’m sitting at the banquet table next to my Ayla. She’s chatting away with Bron and eating. Cam, holding his son, CJ, is sitting next to me on the other side. Our daughters asked us to move so they could sit next to each other.

“Thank you for helping out Lux earlier,” Cam says.

“Don’t mention it. I didn’t do much, but it helped that Elias thought I was working security.”

“God, he’s an asshole. How the hell didn’t I know how bad he was? It’s bad enough I have to hear ‘I told you so’ from Chase about him on a daily basis. I don’t want to know what he would’ve done if he had seen Elias here today.”

I have noticed that Chase hates the man. “That’s what we’re here for—to help the day go smoothly for him and Lauren.”

I look at them at the main table, and by their faces, we’ve succeeded. They’re happily staring into each other’s eyes.

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