“Do I?”
My eyes automatically go to Jordan in her dark blue dress, the color of the sky at night. She’s laughing as Bea spins, making the skirt of her pink dress flare out. Bea beams up at her and Jordan smiles her real smile, relaxed and unguarded. Happy.
My girls. The thought pierces through me, sudden, bright, and true. Jordan belongs with the team, but she belongs with us, too. I’m in love with the woman, for god’s sake. Life is so effortless with her. Every day, I sink deeper.
And I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake. I wonder if she feels like she belongs with us, too.
“Take it from me, Tate.” Ross glances between me and Jordan. “Don’t live with regrets.” He studies his daughter for a moment longer before he gives me a sad smile. “Excuse me.”
He walks away and Bea appears, dragging me to the dance floor.
“What do you think about seeing more of Jordan?” I ask as I twirl her. “Maybe living with us eventually.”
A hopeful look that makes my heart hurt crosses her face. “Then she doesn’t have to get up so early and go back to the guesthouse in the mornings.”
My eyes close and I try not to smile.
“I saw it on the Ring camera,” Bea adds, swinging my hands to the music.
“Right. Yes.” I forgot about those, and I’m guessing Jordan did, too.
“She needs us, Dad.” She brings my hand up and twirls herself under my arm. “She’s happy with us.”
I want it to be true, so badly, because we need her. And we’re happy with her.
“Do you love her?” Bea asks, and my gut drops.
Is it that obvious, that even my nine-year-old can tell?
I drop to a kneel in front of her, holding her eyes. I don’t care that we’re still on the dance floor. I take a deep breath.
“No secrets,” Bea reminds me, looking worried, and I nod.
No secrets.
“Yes,” I admit. “I’m in love with Jordan.” I rub a hand through my hair, Ross’s words echoing through my head. “I’ve been scared, though, because I don’t want you to get your hopes up if it doesn’t work out.”
Bea watches me closely. My parenting style has always been to make Bea feel completely secure in every way. I don’t want her worrying about me.
But I need to tell her the truth.
“And I don’t want to get my hopes up, either.” I swallow hard. “That’s not brave, though, and I want to show you how to be brave. So yes, Bea, I’m in love with Jordan, and I’m waiting to see if she’s in love with us back.”
Her little mouth twists like she’s thinking, and her eyes go to Jordan sitting on the side of the dance floor, watching us with a fond look, giving us space.
“Are you going to ask Jordan to dance?” Bea asks with that hopeful smile again.
“I think I will.”
She beams at me. “Good.”
I take Jordan’s hand and pull her against me on the dance floor, ignoring her darting, self-conscious glances around the room.
There’s something in the air tonight that I’ve never experienced at a wedding. A sparkling energy that has me looking around and picturing Jordan and me at the front, holding hands and exchanging rings, our loved ones looking on.
Jordan studies me with a little smile. “What are you thinking about?”
“This.”
