Page 102 of All Bets Are Off

There was no hesitation again. “Yes.”

“I don’t like your father.”

I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I broke out in a wide grin. “Nobody likes him. Even his friends pretend to like him.”

“I like your sisters. I know you think they’re out to get you, but they’re not. They’re out to get your father, but they’re genuinely fond of you. I didn’t think I liked your mother, but I’ve spent a lot of time with her since she joined the cause, and I’m actually a big fan.”

I rolled my neck. “You think it’s my father making her miserable.”

“I think your father gets off on making people feel small,” she replied. “He wants you to feel smaller. He wants your sisters to know their place. He wants your mother to organize charity events so he looks good and gets the credit. He’s not a loyal guy, though. It’s interesting to me that he managed to raise four loyal children when he’s the exact opposite.”

“He didn’t raise us, though,” I pointed out. “We had nannies … and house staff. My mother was more hands-on than him, but even she wasn’t always around. He didn’t spend any time with us when we were kids.

“Like … your father took you and Rex camping when you were kids,” I continued. “He took you on day outings. I remember once he showed up to the school when we were in sixth grade, and he took Rex for the afternoon just to hang out with him.”

“He used to do that with me, too,” she admitted. “He would take me for ice cream dates. We would go to the mall, and he would let me pick out an outfit with no input from my mother.”

“Did you pick out weird stuff?”

She shook her head. “No. I was always a good girl. Besides, that wasn’t my favorite part of the shopping trips.”

“What was your favorite part?”

“When he took me to the bookstore and said I could buy however many books I wanted. He didn’t care what they were—he let me buy romance books in middle school and everything—and there was never a limit.”

“Did you leave with a hundred books?” I could just see her needing a cart when leaving the bookstore because of her haul.

“Of course not.” She shook her head. “We didn’t have the money for that. I limited it to five books.”

“And that’s the reason he did it,” I said. “He knew you were the best girl in the world and you would never take advantage of a situation.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I … that might be the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.” There was vulnerability in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t be surprised.” I pushed a strand of the hair that had escaped from the ornate clip she’d used to pull back her hair behind her ear. “That’s the same reason I married you.”

Her brow furrowed. “You married me to get your father off your back.”

“Yes, well, that’s true in the grand scheme of things. The reason it was you, though, is because I didn’t have to worry about you taking advantage of the situation. Someone else—someone nowhere as wonderful as you—might have tried to extort money out of me. Someone else would’ve actually taken the credit card I offered and gone shopping. You, though, you’re trying to find shirts for me … and you’re spending time with mymother … and you’re worrying about the sort of outfit you wear to a croquet tournament, but not because you think others will be judging you. It’s because you don’t want to reflect badly on me.”

She tilted her head but didn’t say anything.

“For the record, you could never reflect poorly on me.” I kissed the tip of her nose and then pulled away. “I’m going to change my shirt. Then we’ll head out.”

Her brow creased. “Are you actually going to wear the lavender shirt?”

“I want to match my wife. Of course I am.”

“People are going to make fun of you.”

What she didn’t say was that my father was going to make fun of me. For the first time ever, I realized I didn’t care what he thought. “It will just take me five minutes.” I gave her a soul-sucking kiss before heading down the hallway. “Time me.”

“OH, YOU GUYS LOOK ADORABLE.”

My mother was a gushing mess when she saw that Olivia and I had coordinated our outfits. She immediately insisted on taking a photo of us. Because I was feeling happy—happier than I’d ever felt—I dipped Olivia back before she could say anything and planted a whopper of a kiss on her. My mother sighed as she took the photo.

“Look at you smiling.” She grabbed my cheek and gave it a pinch. “I love that you’re so happy.”

“I love it too.” I slid my arm around Olivia’s waist and granted my father a look. He was dressed in an expensive Ralph Lauren gray suit. It didn’t clash with my mother’s dress, but he obviously hadn’t gone through the trouble of matching with her. “Father,” I said when he just stared.

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