Chapter 53 #2
I kept my eyes on Fiona as Charlie abandoned her for one of the other kids and Claudia immediately intercepted him before he could collide with a table. Fiona laughed and caught her breath, one hand pressing against her chest while she watched the chaos she’d helped create.
“I can’t promise nothin’ bad will ever happen to her,” I told Georgie.
“Yesterday proved exactly how worthless that kind of promise would be. But I can tell you I won’t betray her.
I won’t fuck around on her. I won’t make her wonder where she stands with me, and I won’t disappear when shit gets hard. ”
Georgie’s attention stayed on Fiona. “She’s had enough people disappear.”
“I know.”
“No. You know what she’s told you.”
The words should have bothered me. Instead, I understood what he meant.
There would always be things in Fiona’s past I hadn’t lived through with her. Years I couldn’t touch because they were already gone. Memories she might tell me one day and others she might never put into words. Loving her didn’t give me ownership of every scar she carried.
It just meant I planned to be there for everything that came after.
“She doesn’t owe me every ugly thing that ever happened to her,” I said.
That got his attention.
I finally looked at him. “She tells me what she wants when she’s ready. Same as everybody else.”
For once, Georgie didn’t have an immediate comeback.
“I still think this is fucking insane,” he said eventually.
“Would’ve been disappointed if you changed your mind this fast.”
“She’s eighteen.”
“You mentioned.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Also mentioned.”
His mouth twitched.
I took another drink. “You done?”
“Not even close.”
“Thought so.”
Georgie looked back at the dance floor, and the humor faded from his expression. “She chose you.”
There was something in the way he said it that made me stop fucking around. “Yeah.”
“She doesn’t choose people easily.”
“I know that too.”
His gaze came back to mine, and this time the warning didn’t need profanity around it. “Then deserve it.”
That landed deeper than any threat about removing body parts ever could.
I nodded once. “Every day.”
Something shifted between us after that. Not acceptance exactly. I wasn’t expecting miracles. But when Josie called his name from across the room, Georgie didn’t leave with another threat.
He only pointed at me once.
I raised my beer.
Then he went back to his woman.
I caught Fiona looking at me when I turned toward the dance floor again.
Her hair had started escaping whatever Devlyn and the mothers had done to it earlier, and her cheeks were flushed from dancing.
The dress Mama brought her looked less like wedding clothes now and more like something Fiona had lived in for hours, which somehow made her more beautiful than she had been standing in front of Father Benoit.
My wife.
The thought still made something inside me grin like an idiot.
She crooked one finger at me.
I set my beer down and went.
“What?” I asked when I reached her.
“You’ve been standing over there watching me.”
“Wasn’t exactly hidin’.”
“For a long time.”
“Got a pretty wife. Might as well enjoy the view.”
The blush came fast.
Married or not, I was going to spend the rest of my life seeing how easily I could put that color in her cheeks.
Her arms came around my neck as mine settled at her waist. Whatever song was playing didn’t match the slow way we moved, but nobody seemed to care.
Kids were still dancing beside us, adults were talking over the music, and somewhere behind the bar Gator was loudly accusing his mother of moving alcohol he had specifically told her not to touch.
Fiona rested her cheek against my chest.
“You okay?” she asked.
I smiled into her hair.
This woman.
She had lived through hell yesterday, ridden through the night, told me the secret she’d been carrying for months, gotten married, survived both our families descending on us, and still found room to worry about me.
“Best fuckin’ day of my life.”
She leaned back enough to look up at me. “Yesterday was terrible.”
“Yesterday was the second best.” She scrunched her eyebrows, and she was so fucking cute it made my chest ache. “Yesterday you chose me.”
Her mouth softened.
I kissed her, keeping it short because I had already identified at least six people in this room who believed marrying Fiona had not purchased me unlimited access to her mouth in public.
When I pulled back, I nodded toward Georgie. “Your brother threatened me.”
“Which one?”
I stared at her.
Her eyes brightened.
“Georgie,” I said.
“That makes sense.”
“Should I expect Frank later?”
“Probably.”
“Anybody else?”
“Granny may have already covered everyone.”
“Efficient woman.”
Fiona laughed and settled against me again.
I held her while the party kept moving around us.
Mama and Granny were sitting together at one of the tables, which I found considerably more threatening than when they’d been mad separately.
Aunt Marabella sat with Devlyn—each holding a triplet, while Thore had the third—and appeared to be explaining something with enough hand gestures that Gator kept glancing nervously in their direction.
C.C. was arguing with Trip about something while Cameron had cornered two younger kids and was clearly recruiting them into whatever organization he intended to run by adulthood.
The Sons and Bourbon Kings had mixed together until the room no longer had obvious sides.
Family had a funny way of doing that when you gave them enough food and liquor.
There were things waiting for us outside this room. Sylvia St. James. Fiona’s real name. Angel. Banshee. Questions none of us had answers for yet.
Tonight, I refused to borrow trouble from tomorrow.
Tonight, she was Fiona DuBois.
My wife.
I tightened my arms around her and let myself have that.
The kids were the first to fade. Charlie eventually ended up asleep against Frank’s shoulder, one small fist twisted into the front of his shirt while Claudia gathered the shoes and toys he had managed to scatter across half the bar.
Other children followed, collapsing into chairs or parents’ arms as the energy that had carried them through the day finally gave out.
The adults lasted longer.
Mama kissed Fiona every time she passed close enough to reach her, apparently worried the marriage might expire if she didn’t constantly reinforce her approval.
Aunt Marabella informed Fiona she now had entirely too many relatives and should simply accept that privacy was no longer guaranteed.
Fiona took both women better than any sane person should have, laughing when Mama immediately took her side over some ridiculous argument and then informed me that marriage had officially moved me down the family rankings.
Granny hugged her near the end of the night and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Fiona’s arms tightened around her before they separated, both of them blinking harder than necessary.
Then Granny looked at me.
I wisely kept my mouth shut.
She nodded once.
Progress.
Gator wandered behind the bar after most of the food had disappeared and lifted a glass toward us. “Night, cousin.”
“Night.”
His gaze moved to Fiona and his grin widened. “Night, cousin.”
Fiona laughed. “Good night, Gator.”
Devlyn smacked him on the shoulder as she passed.
C.C. called across the room, “I don’t want to hear anything through the walls.”
Fiona froze.
I nearly choked laughing.
“Cosette Celine!” Mama snapped.
“What? I said I don’t want to hear it.”
“Girl, you were raised better than that.”
C.C. looked at me. “He wasn’t.”
“Accurate,” Gator called.
Trip caught C.C. around the waist and started steering her away before she could contribute anything worse.
Fiona buried her face against my chest.
“This is your family now,” I murmured.
Her voice came muffled through my shirt. “I’m reconsidering.”
“Too late. Father Benoit made it official.”
She looked up. “Can I return you?”
“No refunds on Cajuns.”
“That seems legally questionable.”
“Should’ve read the fine print.”
Her smile softened as the laughter faded around us.
I looked toward the stairs and she followed my gaze.
For the first time all day, neither of us had somewhere else we needed to be.
“You tired?” I asked.
“Very.”
There was something beneath the answer that had nothing to do with sleep, but I didn’t push it. We had promised each other enough today.
I took her hand.
Before we reached the stairs, Fiona looked back over the Bourbon Bar.
Frank sat holding Charlie on his shoulder, pushing a stroller holding his sleeping twins back and forth, while Claudia helped Devlyn clear tables.
Georgie had Josie tucked against his side, his earlier threats apparently forgotten for the moment.
Granny and Mama were still talking at the table—an alliance I was absolutely going to regret tomorrow.
King stood near the bar with Bailey and Cameron, and when his eyes met mine, he gave me a look that reminded me tomorrow hadn’t disappeared just because I refused to deal with it tonight.
I understood more than he knew.
Fiona squeezed my hand.
I looked down at her.
“Ready, Mrs. DuBois?”
Her smile was tired and beautiful and entirely mine.
“Good night, everyone,” she called.
A chorus answered from around the bar, followed by at least one whistle that earned somebody a smack.
I lifted my free hand without bothering to turn around. “Night, assholes.”
Mama shouted my full name.
Fiona laughed as I pulled her toward the stairs.
“Run, Ma Belle.”
She followed me upstairs, still laughing.