Page 269 of The Baby Bargain
"You gonna put that thing on or stare at it?" Wes holds up my tie.
I suck a breath through my teeth. It shouldn't feel this monumental. Ariel and I already have a kid together. We live together, share finances, plan our lives around each other. Getting married is a formality.
Only it's not.
In an hour, I'll be able to call her my wife.
She'll call me her husband.
Fuck, it's—
"You're gonna run out of time." Wes clears his throat. "Keep your hands at your sides." He moves closer. Loops the tie through my collar.
"When did you learn to do that?" Griffin raises a brow.
"You want to mention your wedding again?" Wes cinches the knot and slides it into place. "It never gets old."
Griffin just chuckles.
Hunter too. "Poor kid, huh?"
Wes pouts. Even though he's a married father—with another on the way—he's still Wes. (Soon, he'll be able to compete with Dean for most obnoxious father, not just most obnoxious guy at Inked Hearts. Chloe is a million months pregnant. Poor five-foot-one girl looks like she's about to pop).
"Good thing she takes after her mother," Griffin says.
Wes's frown turns upside down. He steps backward. Lets out a dreamy sigh. "She has new freckles."
Griffin and Hunter share a look.Not this again.
Wes was a lovesick puppy when he fell for Quinn. Now that he can gush over his daughter?
I'd find him annoying if I didn't feel exactly the same way about the women in my life.
Not that Hunter loves Emma less than I love Ariel. He adores his fiancée (she's making him wait). But he's like me. He wants to hold it close to his chest. So it doesn't disappear.
Once a fucked-up Keating, always a fucked up Keating.
Mom is… Mom. I wish I could say she stayed on the straight and narrow forever. But she didn't.
About a year ago, she started drinking a little. Then a lot. Fuck, it was probably earlier. I probably missed it.
But it's not like before. I can handle it.
Yeah, I'm not happy my mother refuses further treatment. I certainly don't like thinking about her drinking herself to death.
But it's not my battle anymore.
It's hers.
You can't help someone who won't help themselves. Not with tough love. Not with a lot of slack. Not with anything.
I get that now.
The door swings open and Forest steps inside. He shoots me a shit-eating grin. One that screamsI know something you don't.
He's in a royal purple suit. One that matches my tie. And the bow around Ariel's bouquet. And every flower here. (Our colors are royal purple and crimson. Her pick. Completely perfect).
He's in the bridal party.
