Epilogue
One year later…
It was their wedding day. They were keeping it small, family only, and marrying at Sus Brazos. Siobhan’s mother and sisters were here along with Zurina and her children and, of course, all the Sauveterres and their children.
It was the delightful madhouse of her dreams.
Siobhan should already be on her way to the suite that had been set aside for primping and setting hair and dressing her in her simple, seed-pearl encrusted gown.
Her groom had his own places to be, but he hadn’t left their rooms yet, either. They had slept together last night and made love this morning.
A few minutes ago, Siobhan had finished feeding Rogelio, their four-month-old son. Joaquin had lingered instead of leaving, then took Rogelio while Siobhan stepped into the shower.
Along with nannies, there was a grandmother and countless aunties dying to hold him. All the other children wanted a turn giving him a cuddle and having photos with him, but as Siobhan came out of the bathroom in her robe, she found Rogelio was still here, playing with his father.
Joaquin sat in the armchair with Rogelio clasped in one arm. Rogelio was still in his jammies. He was strengthening his wobbly legs against Joaquin’s thigh, one hand curled into the soft T-shirt Joaquin wore.
He chewed his fist as he watched the small teddy bear that Joaquin slowly swooped toward him. “He’s going to tickle your belly.”
As the plush bear arrived in Rogelio’s middle, the baby let out infectious baby chortles. Joaquin laughed right along with him.
“Now he’s going to get your neck.”
Siobhan stood struck with wonder as she watched them.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Joaquin be so tender with their son.
It happened many times a day, but it filled her with awe and tenderness and pure happiness every time.
In this moment, the sight of Joaquin’s defenses completely down as he allowed his naked love for his son to shine in his face, brought a squeeze of adoration to her chest and made her eyes sting with joy.
He noticed her. “You’re ready to go up with him?
I’m sorry, little man. If the adoration of all those women gets to be too much, call me and I’ll take you to the barber with me.
” Joaquin dropped the teddy bear so he could pinch a lock of fine strands in two fingers to measure it.
“You could use a shave and a cut, no? While we talk politics and the economy?”
“Do you want to take him to the barber with you?” Siobhan asked with amusement.
“I do.” Joaquin looked at their son’s big blinking eyes and swiped his thumb beneath his drooling mouth. “But your family will be disappointed if I take him so I will share him.”
Rogelio caught his finger and brought his knuckle to his mouth, using it as a teething toy, then kicked with excitement when she came close enough to reach for him.
“We’ll have him to ourselves on the honeymoon,” she reminded Joaquin as she took the baby and he rose to kiss her.
His wide hand splayed itself on her ass through the thin silk of her robe. “I’m looking forward to having you to myself on the honeymoon,” he said in a low, sexy voice.
“Then we should get married, shouldn’t we?”
“Details, details,” he chided, cupping their son’s head to press a kiss to his temple, then kissing her once more. “I’ll see you soon.”
A few hours later, Henri escorted Siobhan down the aisle to where Joaquin waited for her. Zurina stood up for him in Fernando’s place. Cinnia was Siobhan’s matron of honor. She held Rogelio, their ring bearer in an adorable baby tuxedo.
Siobhan teared up as they spoke their vows and pure love radiated from Joaquin’s eyes. Her voice shook with emotion as she devoted herself to him, and he promised himself to her.
Later, after photographs and speeches, a song performed by the chorus of children and a wonderful dinner, Joaquin took her into his arms for their first dance.
Siobhan had requested “At Last”, but for some reason, the band began to sing about Paris and Rome.
As wedding glitches went, it was nothing so Siobhan didn’t make a fuss. The song was pretty and danceable. It seemed familiar, but Siobhan didn’t place it until the crooner lamented that he had left his heart in San Francisco.
“Did you do this?” she asked, tilting her head back with amusement.
“What?”
“Change the song?”
“Is this not the song you wanted?” He was wearing a relaxed expression, not the one that hid his thoughts. He wasn’t laughing at her and only looked mildly curious as he met her gaze.
“You’re teasing me,” she accused. “This song?”
“I didn’t do anything. I swear. Do you not like it? It seems appropriate.” His mouth twitched wryly at the lyrics.
“You really didn’t ask them to sing this?”
“I really didn’t.” He touched his mouth to hers. “It must be kismet.”
It must have been.
Keep reading for an excerpt from GREEK BOSS TO HATE by Michelle Smart.