Page 780 of The Tempted

“Shit,” he mutters.

“You had one fucking job—”

“I’ve got the ring,” he interrupts, flashing me a smile as he runs his hands over his cut, patting his pockets before reaching inside and producing a tiny, black, velvet box. I take it from his hands, flip up the top and stare at the custom wedding band designed with two rows of canary yellow diamonds.

Sunshine.

Always.

Lacey leans over my shoulder to get a peek at the ring, a smile spreading wide across her face as she stares at it.

“Wow, it’s beautiful Dad,” she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Reina’s going to love it.”

I hope so.

I take the ring between my fingers, pull it out of the box to turn it over to inspect the band. There engraved into the gold are the two words that sum up our relationship.

You.

Me.

Lifting my eyes to Blackie, I crack a smile and tip my chin.

“Thanks for getting it done,” I say.

“What’s a best man good for if he can’t pick up a ring?” he slaps my shoulder, leaning forward to press a kiss to Lacey’s cheek. “I’m going to make a quick run, check things out and get a handle on this hair,” he points to his wild locks, looking to me and giving me a look. Words may not have been spoken, but they were reflected in his eyes.

Going to check out the security on the property.

I got you, brother.

“Don’t you dare touch the hair,” Lacey orders, cocking her head to the side. “I mean comb it, maybe tie it back but if you so much as cut a centimeter of it—”

“Don’t you worry, girl. I know you like it…” His eyes turn to mine and he smiles sheepishly leaving the rest of his answer on his tongue. Smart fucking man.

Silently, I hand him the ring to keep safe until the ceremony and watch him walk out the door to check the perimeter of the building. I turn toward Lacey, noticing her eyes are still pinned to the door Blackie just walked through.

“Hey, pretty girl, where are you?” I question, stepping in front of her to draw her attention back to me. “Lace?”

Shaking away whatever thoughts took her mind hostage for a brief moment she averts her gaze back to mine and forces a smile.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming,” she explains.

I wanted to believe that Lacey was capable of the simple things like daydreams but knew it wasn’t likely. That bitch of a maker was planting seeds of fire in her brain but this time she was able to fight against it. Ignore the voice dragging her down. Wish like hell she fought and won every damn time. Wish like hell, I didn’t have to watch her battle her mind like I do.

The hyper florist stood alongside me, dropping a box on the bar before firing instructions at me and Lacey.

“Boutonnieres and bouquets are in there.” He points at Lacey. “Are you part of the wedding party?”

“I am the wedding party,” she laughs at the frazzled man in front of her, leaning over the box to inspect the contents. “I’ll take care of it,” she confirms, lifting a boutonniere.

“Are you ready to get married?” she questions, opening the clear plastic container holding the flowers.

“I’m ready,” I assure her, watching as she lifts the delicate flowers and pulls out the pin in the back of the arrangement. I angle my head to the side as I study her. I take a step back as I envision my little girl dressed as a bride and I am the one holding the flowers, handing her a bouquet before walking her down the aisle.

Shit, that will happen one day.

Probably a lot sooner than I’d like.

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