Page 77 of Worth the Chase

“Fuck,” I whispered as I let go of my emotions. I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring from my eyes.

“Please tell me you all know how much she loved you. And how much I do too.” Our dad choked on the last part, his words getting all tangled up in the emotions we didn’t typically share.

Thomas blew out a long breath before he leaned over, his hands on his knees as he focused on his breathing. “This is why we don’t talk about Mom.”

“Because we turn into blubbering messes?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Because when it comes down to it, we’re nothing but a bunch of boys who lost their mother and never got over it.” Thomas stood up straight and wiped at his own face.

“You don’t get over something like that,” Dad said.

Patrick put a hand in the air, most likely to offer a subject change, but Jeremiah—Addi’s dad—walked up to us with a huge grin on his face.

“Shit.” His smile fell as he took in all of our expressions. “What happened?”

“This guy brought up our mother.” Patrick thumbed toward our dad.

“Great job, O’Grady. Remind me to invite you to all the fun things,” he teased.

Patrick had practically lived over at Jeremiah’s house after our mom died. We’d all escaped in our own way. I never realized before this moment that we’d all run away from the farm and all the memories it held, but we’d left our dad alone in it.

“Your mother was a hell of a woman. Not sure what she ever saw in this guy, but everyone in Sugar Mountain adored her,” Jeremiah added to the conversation that I’d assumed was over.

“I’m going to cry again.” I waved a hand and took a step away.

A door opened, and Addi’s younger sister, Sarina, walked out quickly. Her eyes met mine, and she waved before disappearing down the hall. This was the perfect change of subject.

“When did Sarina get in?” I asked as I made my way back toward the group of men who had somehow pulled it together in my quick absence.

“She’s been here a couple of days now,” Patrick answered.

“Is she staying with you guys?”

When Addi’s parents had gotten divorced, her mom had moved to New York and taken Sarina with her. The girls were just kids when it happened. Addi moved to NYC a few years back and trained under some big-name chefs. She’d bonded with her little sister during that time, and they’d been thick as thieves ever since. Her mother was another story, which was why she wasn’t here. I didn’t think she’d been invited.

“No, she is not,” Jeremiah responded with a grin. “She’s with me. At our house. Has her own room and everything,” he said, sounding like Patrick did when he talked about Clara’s room here.

I snapped my fingers. “That’s right. Didn’t she decorate it when she came out?” I remembered something about that from her very first visit all those months ago.

“She did. Bought everything from the general store. Looks like a twelve-year-old threw up in there.” Jeremiah laughed, but he loved it. Even though the man looked tough as nails and could probably still kick my ass, he was a big softy at heart.

Sarina reappeared and gave us each a hug in greeting. “Are you guys ready?” she asked.

Patrick stood a little taller and started adjusting his tie.

“Let’s go get you married then.” She giggled before shoving us toward the balcony, where the ceremony was taking place.

“I guess that’s our cue.” I nodded and started following my dad and Patrick outside.

“I’ll see you out there,” Jeremiah said as he headed toward the room where Addi was getting ready.

The oversize balcony was covered in mini twinkling lights. They were everywhere and created a magical scene as the sun started setting in the distance. There were lit candles of all sizes in glass cases. It was simple yet perfect. Intimate. My dad stood against one of the wood railings, a notebook in his hands, while my brother Patrick stood to the right of him.

When Bells appeared, I reached for her and held her body in front of my own, pressing her tight against me. “You look beautiful,” I whispered against her ear as I planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.” She leaned her head on my chest. “Wait till you see Clara.”

As if she was summoned, my little niece walked outside, wearing the fluffiest dress I’d ever seen. She looked like a proper ballerina—minus the shoes, of course. Our little darling was wearing two different-colored combat boots. I wondered if she’d ever grow out of doing that and I secretly hoped she wouldn’t.

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