The gasps in the room come from the moms, while Ford freezes, and my dad? Shit. Spencer Crews is a man who was a star pitcher and handled pressure well. Curveballs were his expertise. This curveball? Not so much.
I’ve never seen him so angry in my life. His jaw ticks, his fist clenches. That beer bottle he was enjoying? Slammed down onto the counter.
“Why is my daughter wearing a wedding ring?” he grits out.
I speak before Connor can. “Because we eloped. Last night. In Vegas.”
The room goes deathly silent, and my heart may just break from the look on my father’s face. I can’t read him. I hate that uncertainty. Disappointment is the last thing that I would ever want from him. It’s why I agreed to stay married, as I thought a quick annulment would be worse, and I may have also stayed married for a little revenge, but mostly not to break my father’s heart.
“We decided that we didn’t want to be apart. We cemented our feelings,” Connor explains and pulls me into a tight side hug.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Ford gives his son a hardened look. “What in the world would make you think that every parent in this room wouldn’t want to be given a clue that you two were getting hitched?”
“Because then I would have stopped it.” My dad glares at my husband.
“Maybe we should take a breather, have some wine,” Brielle says. “I mean, Ford, we eloped… plus, everyone… we are all family now,” she points out, attempting to bring some light to this conversation. She flashes me a reassuring smile. I guess she’s on our team. Then again, she doesn’t get mad about anything.
My mom steps forward. “I just don’t get it. I mean, your whole life you’ve talked about how you want a big wedding, fancy dress, cupcakes, and flowers. Vegas, it isn’t you.”
I step out of Connor’s hold, because somewhere inside of me I’m cracking. Thatismy dream wedding. Nothing about this situation is something I fantasized about. I don’t even remember my wedding. I glance over my shoulder to Connor who has a shade of guilt in his eyes.
Licking my lips, I do my best to carry this situation forward. “We didn’t want to wait. But we can still have a big wedding later.”
“I didn’t even get to throw you a bridal shower! You know, with cookies, tea, and lingerie,” my mom cries.
The dads in the room groan. “Do not put lingerie, bridal showers, and Connor into the same scenario when it involves our daughter,” my father implores my mom.
She shrugs, then the corner of her mouth hitches up. “At least she married her prince. She’s dreamt of him since she was six.”
Shaking my head, I don’t need the reminder that I was a naïve girl with a silly crush.
“We’re relatives.” Brielle nudges my mom’s shoulder before my mom wraps an arm around her for a hug.
“No warm feelings right now.” My dad seems stressed. “I warned you that your hockey-playing son should stay away from my little girl,” he seethes to his friend.
Ford rolls his eyes. “Yeah, when they were teenagers! They are legal adults now who drink and know how to sign their name on a marriage certificate. We need to focus on the now. They’re married.”
“Yeah, and your son didn’t have the respect to speak to me before he made my daughter his bride!” My father is furious.
“I would have. It’s just… passion and love caught us in a moment,” Connor explains.
My dad rubs his temples. “Do. Not. Speak of passion and my daughter to me. If it weren’t for the fact that you are Ford’s son, then I swear I would kill you right now.”
“That’s a little harsh. I’m great son-in-law material.” Connor doesn’t seem fazed by my dad, and inside of me I want to laugh, because that’s just Connor, always wanting a good time. And in this moment, as dreadful as it is, he’s a beacon of humor that we all need.
“Let’s calm down.” Ford gestures his hands out to my dad and Connor, who look like they are ready to square off.
In that moment, my brother Ashton, along with Connor’s brothers Wyatt and Alex, walk into the house from out back, where they must have been playing basketball.
“Mom, I’m hungry. Is dinner ready?” My brother walks to me to give me a hug—we’re a hugging family.
“Uh, in a little bit, kiddo,” my mom says uneasily.
“Why is everyone looking at Connor? What did he do now?” Wyatt asks as he grabs crackers from the counter.
Alex is only seven and shy when adults are around, so he only gives Connor a hug then runs to his mom.
“I think all the kids under the age of eighteen need to go to the other room. Go play on the game console or something,” Ford suggests.
