I turned my palm up beneath hers, letting my ring catch the light.
“I am not going anywhere. You have my word.”
Geneviève pressed her fingertips to her mouth.
Augustin shut his eyes, just for a moment. When he opened them again, they were different. Not soft, no less intense, but understanding.
Étienne broke the tension with a low, approving whistle. “Well,” he said, leaning back, arms still crossed, “personally, I’m excited for Ray to be moving out. I’ve wanted her view of the lavender fields for years.”
Auri and I exchanged a glance, both fighting laughter as we both remembered her joke about the east and west wings earlier.
Geneviève exhaled shakily, touching the base of her throat, French accent the thickest of everyone’s at the table. “Tell me, at least, that there was a ring ceremony? Something symbolic? Something meaningful?”
Auri’s eyes softened. “There was a handfasting. Overlooking the water, and at a vineyard that—get this—Colette Beauchamp now owns.”
“Oh,” Geneviève said, tears shimmering. “Mon dieu…”
Emilie scoffed in disbelief. “You had a fairytale ceremony and you didn’t invite me?”
Auri sighed.
“And,” her sister said, pointing accusingly, “You”—her finger swung to Étienne—“knew?”
He shrugged. “Not my fault you didn’t clock their rings sooner.”
Augustin exhaled—slow, heavy, resigned. Then he stood, bracing his palms on the table’s edge as he looked at both of us.
“I would have liked to walk my daughter down the aisle,” he told us quietly.
My stomach twisted. Auri—closest to her father, across from her mother—touched his hand. The same way she touched mine when she was offering forgiveness, not asking for it. He lookeddown at her hand, how her rings glittered and her tattoo stood out on her skin, still fresh and dark.
“Papa,” she whispered. “You think I don’t know that? Cal and I talked about this. We’re going to hold a large reception later. Once we’re a little more settled in our home. Then you can walk me into the next chapter, have our father-daughter dance. All of it. If you want to.”
His brows pulled together—surprise, grief, love all tangled, and then he nodded. A single, accepting nod. A shock rippled through the room, almost in disbelief that he seemed to recognize this for what it was: an adjustment and a new beginning. A family reshaping itself around a truth spoken out loud. Acknowledging that their daughter had made her own decisions, and that if they wanted to be a part of her life, their roles would have to change.
Auri had shown the world, her family, and most importantly herself, that she could make it. She trusted her instincts, and now she didn’t need their permission, money, or approval to determine her worth, let alone her place in this world.
She sat back beside me, sliding her hand into mine again. Her thumb brushed the inside of my wrist. Without hesitation, leaned in and kissed her temple. She let out a quiet giggle.
I leaned closer, not caring anymore that her parents’ eyes were on us. I’d made my first impression. I wouldn’t pretend to be someone I wasn’t. If my wife wanted them to like me, then they needed to seeme.
“I’m so proud of you,” I whispered, quiet enough that only she could hear.
She melted, giving me the sweetest fucking smile I’d ever seen in my life, and it damn near stole my breath. Then she leaned in—lips brushing my jaw like she couldn’t help herself—and whispered, “Say that again when your mouth is between my legs tonight.”
My pulse stuttered. Blood rushed south so fast I saw stars. My eyes immediately dropped, catching that her legs were crossed tightly, thighs pressed together like she was chasing friction already.
Fuck.
I could practically feel it—how good that squeeze must feel for her, how warm and wet she probably already was. I had to fight the urge to shift in my chair, to lean in and tell herexactlywhat I’d do if we were alone. But her parents were still watching. Still scrutinizing every blink, every glance.
They probably knew how to fucking lip read too.
So I leaned back slowly, keeping my voice quiet. “Scale?”
Her head tilted. “Eight,” she said lightly. “Ten when we’re back home. You?”
I held her gaze and let a beat pass before murmuring, “Nine.”
