Rio’s mouth drops open as he falls asleep. It’s the boy’s habit to eat until he puts himself in a milk coma.
I pull my robe over myself. “So, about my father …”
“Oh, yeah, he’s here too.”
“What?” I jump to my feet.
She places her hands on my arms. “Slow down. Your men are vetting him. There’s a chance he might not even make it into the house.” She walks me over to the window and pulls the curtain aside.
My eyes fill with tears as I watch the Royal Bastard’s surround my father.
“When your mother moved you to Arkansas, he lost track of you and your brother. He hit a dead end.”
My bottom lip begins to tremble because what she’s saying rings true.
“Oh, baby, that man loves you. Don’t doubt it.”
“Then why are they keeping him out there?”
Her gaze goes back to the window. “They need to be sure of that for themselves. It’s their job to protect you. Rage is setting boundaries for his family.”
I watch my husband speak to my father, and a sense of pride fills my veins. He shows me how much he loves me every day. He never leaves me guessing.
“He’ll make the right decision,” I say, turning away from the window and returning to my vanity.
Jesse follows and takes my son from my arms so I can finish getting ready for my wedding. “Looks like you have what it takes to be a president’s wife,” she says, pleased with the trust I have in my husband.
Everything becomes a bustle of activity after that as the girls come back into the room. Mila squeals in delight as Shelly places little white flowers in her hair.
A knock on the door makes everyone pause, and the women all scatter as soon as Rage steps into the room.
“We’ll be back,” Shelly says, closing the door behind them.
I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t let that go to your head. You’re not all that scary.”
He ignores my comment because he’s focused solely on rolling his gaze down my frame. I shiver in its wake. His attention is one of my most favorite things.
“Your father is here,” he says directly, facing things head on. It doesn’t surprise me anymore, and actually I like it. “Do you want to see him?”
“How do we know he’s really my father?” I ask, knowing his answer before he says it.
“Fingerprints match.”
I can’t hide my amusement, and a chuckle escapes me. His scowl deepens.
“I trust your judgment. What do you think?” I ask, trying my best to pull a serious face, hoping to ease the lines between his eyes.
Carson knocks on the door, interrupting us. Rage sighs loudly.
“Hey, we’re ordering pizza. Do you guys want anything?”
“The wedding starts in an hour,” Rage reminds him, grinding his teeth together.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m ordering it now. It will be here in thirty.”
Again, a giggle escapes me.
“So, no?” Carson asks.