Page 216 of A Song for You

It’s not even a concern in my mind. I know Jay. I’ve always known him, even when I wouldn’t acknowledge it. It’s why I struggled to trust what my grandfather said about him all those years ago. Because this Jay, my Jay, would never turn his back on his daughter.

He didn’t willingly turn his back on me.

And after almost thirteen years of suffering for the both of us, it’s time to focus on the good. It’s okay for me to move forward. Because I want the man who’s standing in the center of my living room, taking in each detail as if he’s cataloging it for later and waiting for the moment he lays his eyes on Chloe again.

If he’s nervous, he doesn’t let it show. Steady hands slide the pizza box onto the stove top and set the two bouquets on the kitchen counter. Then warm blue eyes are tracking the space, searching for our missing puzzle piece.

“Chlo,” I holler. “Jay’s here.” In a lower voice, I say to him, “She likes listening to music while she does her homework.”

He nods in acknowledgment, but his gaze remains focused on the hallway where faint strains of music are floating through the air.

“Want a glass of wine? Beer? Or whiskey?” I offer. “I only have James Whiskey, though,” I tease.

Jay grimaces. “Soon it will be one and the same, beautiful. You ready to tell your brothers we’re switching grains so that their whiskey can get on par with Hanson?”

Rolling my eyes, I mutter under my breath, “Cocky bastard.”

At the sound of a door opening, we both dart glances at the hallway. Then Chloe is standing at the edge of the kitchen, swaying back and forth awkwardly.

Taking a deep breath, I jump in to introduce them. “Chlo, you remember Jay from my office? Jay, this is Chloe. Our…daughter.” The last words are whispered as the enormity of the moment settles on all of us. It’s like a fog lifts, making everything around us more clear.

Two sets of matching bright blue eyes blink at one another, and then Jay is moving in her direction.

My heart stops at the sight, and I hold my breath in anticipation of what he’ll do.

“It’s good to see you again, Chloe,” he says, holding out his hand to greet her.

I have to bite down on my bottom lip to hide my smile as I watch the adorable train wreck. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know how to talk to kids, but shaking her hand? Oof.

Chloe blinks at his outstretched hand, then looks past him to me. For a split second, her eyes are filled with humor. I lift my chin and smile, encouraging her.

She presses her lips together and slides her hand into his. “Nice to see you too,” she says. Her tone is all awkward and slightly teasing.

“I ordered pizza,” I say, breaking the tension in the room.

“Yeah,” Jay chirps, “your mom was afraid that billionaires don’t eat pizza.”

Chloe laughs. “Considering she doesn’t cook, you better get used to it.”

Struck by the way Jay referred to me as mom and Chloe didn’t correct him, I’m left gaping at them.

Chloe tilts her head sheepishly and says, “Come on, we still love you,” as if she believes I’m upset by their teasing.

What she doesn’t know is that this moment—the easy way Jay referred to me as her mom and how the two of them instantly ganged up to tease me—is probably the greatest moment of my life. And this is only the beginning.

“And you got to go backstage?” Chloe asks, her eyes wide.

Jay eats up her excitement, a boyish grin falling across his face. “Even better.” He nods. “Afterward, I went out with them and sang karaoke.”

“Shut up. Cat, did you hear that?” Chloe asks, like I’m not sitting at the table with them. “Jay sang with Harry Styles.”

Jay holds a slice of pizza up and winks at me across the table. Every cell in my body screams we love this man.

Turning to Chloe, I avoid blurting that out and reply, “Yeah, I heard him.” I grin and turn back to my fiancé. “Harry must have been drunk to agree to sing with the likes of you.”

Jay smirks. “I happen to remember you loving my voice, Kitten.”

The blush that burns my cheeks is instantaneous.