Tex stabbed a finger my way with his gaze still locked on Smithie. “I sleep beside her mother.”
“I introduced her to her man,” Smithie fired back.
He kinda did that too, just not for the reason that brought us to now.
Tex gave up on Smithie and looked at me.
“He isnothornin’ in on my action.”
I had to find a compromise.
Immediately.
“Are you gonna dance with me at the reception?” I asked, thinking Tex would balk at that for sure and I could give the walk-down-the-aisle part to Tex and the father-daughter dance to Smithie.
“Yes,” Tex answered immediately.
I blinked.
“You are?” I queried.
“Fuck yes. The father dances with his girl after the wedding. Right?” Tex replied.
“Yes,” I whispered, and did it feeling Mo’s arm get tighter around me.
Tex nodded sharply and stated, “I’ve already picked the song. ‘Not While I’m Around.’”
Oh boy.
I knew that song.
Uh-oh.
I was going to cry.
While I fought that urge, I felt the room and knew Smithie knew that song too and Tex just won the argument.
“What’s Ray gonna do in all this?” Smithie asked me quietly, giving in without saying the words.
Ray was my biological dad. Since he began his ongoing gambling recovery, our relationship had been somewhat repaired. Like Mo’s oldest sister, for the sake of family, and because she had a generous heart, Jet had asked our dad to give her away at her wedding.
Then again, that hadn’t worked out all that well and not because Dad was a dick. Because Eddie had taken one look at Jet in her wedding dress and broke ranks at the altar to prowl down the aisle and claim her before Dad got the shot to give her away.
It was hilarious.
It was super sweet.
It was totally romantic.
And it was hot as fuck.
Sadly, the scars my father left me would never go away, so he wasn’t going to get that honor from me mostly because I was grown up, and Tex still lived the words of the song he’d pickedfor our dance. On the other hand, Dad played a role in making me, and throughout my life, he’d never lived those words.
“He’ll be invited,” I told Smithie. “But I think he’ll get why he won’t play a bigger part.”
“Right then,” Smithie muttered, lifting a hand and rubbing it over the top of his head. He dropped his hand and went on, “So, guess I’ll see you Tuesday next.”
Current drama over.