Page 76

Tears instantly fill my eyes. I don’t know what to say or how to say it, but this seems like far too much. But it gets better, because as the crowd begins to part and move around, there is a small dining room table in the background.

It’s not just a dining room table and chairs, because that’s not enough. There is also a gorgeous cake in the center. It’s white, two-tiered, with light-pink roses and a small topper. It’s gold and has "Mr. & Mrs." stacked on top of one another in cursive script.

It’s perfect.

“Come and cut the cake, then we’ll give you a tour,” Elodie calls out.

“A tour of my own house?” Brock asks.

There is a moment of silence, and I watch as Elodie steps in front of us, specifically standing in front of Brock. He dips his chin down at the same time she tilts her head back to look up at him. I watch as her eyes narrow on him, and she pops a hip out.

Oh, she’s got something to say.

Pressing my lips together, I try to hide my smile as she begins to speak. “Hound,” Elodie snaps, “your garage was a hot fucking mess, as was everything you had in here. You left us a whole project to deal with. So yes, a tour, because we pretty much got rid of everything you owned.”

Brock straightens his neck, and I watch as his eyes widen. He shifts his attention over to the men and focuses on one of them. I don’t know many of them yet. Even after spending several days living in their hidey-hole, I only really talked to that horrible Honey girl and Two-Pump.

“You got rid of everything?” I ask when Brock doesn’t say anything immediately.

Elodie smiles. “We did, but to be fair, it needed to go.”

I know she’s right.

It did need to go, from what I remember anyway. It didn’t look like Brock had much going on, just a bunch of stuff he was storing in hopes he’d have the time to fix it up one day. But one day wasn’t going to be coming anytime soon, and now it’s here.

“Yeah,” Brock murmurs, his attention still on the man across the room from us. “It did need to go.”

He’s still carrying Thea, but he drops my hand and walks over to the man he’s been watching. I don’t know if this should make me nervous, but it does, at least a little bit. I can’t read Brock. I don’t know if he’s upset or what, but I don’t want him to be. Everything is beautiful so far.

There are people walking around us, chatting and moving as if nothing major is happening. As if Brock isn’t having a serious conversation just a few feet away. But this feels very major to me.

“That’s Dare, Chassis’s husband, the president of the club,” Elodie murmurs.

Then I watch as something happens: Brock lifts his hand and extends it toward Dare. He hands him a bundle of cash. Dare shakes his head but doesn’t push the money away or anything. Instead, he takes it and shoves it into his pocket, then curls his fingers around Brock’s shoulder, shaking it a few times. Both men smile, and then Brock turns his head to look back at me, the smile widening.

He’s not mad. In fact, he seems happy… really happy. Elodie practically pushes me toward the cake. People surround us as we cut it. Brock takes Thea out of her carrier so she can see the action.

It’s the best wedding reception. Better than anything I expected or deserve. It’s full of love, of people who care for us, and it’s full of laughter and happiness. I’ve never felt so at peace with a decision as I do right now. I’ve had my moment of wondering if this was the right choice, but I feel it now.

This is right.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-EIGHT

KEELY

“I hope you’re okay with the colors. We had to guess. I tried to make it more neutral, so if you wanted to add some bright colors, you could and it would all still fit.”

Tears fill my eyes at the sight of the nursery. The wall has board and batten around the entire room that is a medium-gray color. It matches the inside of the door as well. There is a light-gray color on the upper part of the wall, and then a white ceiling with white crown molding.

There is a dark-blue floral rug on the floor with small pink flowers. A white dresser is on the other wall with a gold-framed mirror hanging on the wall. Everything is simple and beautiful.

“I did a light-gray fitted sheet. I thought it would be really pretty if her bedding was a pop of color, but I had no clue what you wanted to do,” Elodie says as she finishes giving me the tour of Thea’s room.

I think she’s finished, but then she walks over to the closet. She opens the door, and I gasp at the sight that greets me. Clothes, tiny little dresses and outfits hanging up, fill the bar. There are also shelves on one side of the closet that hold stuffed animals.

Gasping, I lift my hands to my mouth and try to blink back the tears. I don’t know who bought these outfits, but they’re gorgeous. There is also a little separate stand with shoes. So many baby shoes, in every color you could ever imagine.