“Princess, you look beautiful,” he said as she leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“And you look handsome as usual.”
“You know, after so many years of wearing a suit I actually miss my robe and slippers,” he joked, and it was so nice to see him in good spirits. She’d been so busy at work lately she hadn’t had much time to visit with him. She needed to make more of an effort.
“Are you still planning to walk Nora down the aisle?”
He nodded, a look of determination on his face. “If it kills me.”
“Daddy, don’t say that.”
“I’m kidding. I’ll be fine. I’m feeling good today.”
She could see it, and she was so relieved. She had worried that he might be too ill to even attend. But he was tough, although much softer around the edges now and much more sentimental.
“Are you still at Roman’s?” he asked her. The last time she’d seen her father she explained the entire situation, not sure if he would even remember the conversation. But apparently he had.
“I am. Until he thinks it’s safe for me to go home.”
“I never liked Dax,” he said, frowning. “I never trusted him.”
“I still can’t believe I was so wrong about him. I feel so stupid.”
“Don’t,” her father said, taking her hand. His felt cold and frail. “You see the good in people. It’s your gift.”
Some gift. In this instance it could have gotten her seriously hurt. Or possibly even killed.
For a fleeting second she thought about Roman, and how she had trusted him, too. But that was different.
Wasn’t it?
A bell rang, alerting everyone that it was time to move to the arboretum for the ceremony. Nash appeared to wheel Sutton to the spot where he would meet Nora.
Roman stepped up beside Gracie and offered his arm, smiling so sweetly and looking so handsome she couldn’t doubt him. She just needed to let it go and let herself be happy.
She took his arm and they found seats in the arboretum in the family section up near the front. A few minutes later Reid took his place beside the reverend, looking dashing in his tux and so happy. And maybe a little nervous, too. Nash stood beside him. Soft music played as Eve walked down the aisle, followed by Nash’s niece, Phoebe, who sprinkled pink and white rose petals over the satin runner while her twin brother, Jude, watched anxiously from his mother’s lap. Declan was next, looking adorable and debonair in his tux, carrying the pink pillow with the rings.
When the wedding march began everyone stood and turned, and when her sister appeared, Gracie’s breath caught. In cream silk, with her pale complexion, Nora looked like a living porcelain statue. Her dress was simple but elegant and fit her perfectly. Gracie couldn’t help but give herself a pat on the back.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” Roman said softly, making her smile.
Sutton moved slowly, bracing himself against his daughter, but held his head high. And when he gave her away to Reid Gracie could swear there were tears in his eyes.
The ceremony was short but heartfelt, and when Declan got restless and wanted Mommy, Nora and Reid held him together as they spoke their vows. And when they kissed, he kissed them, too. It was probably the sweetest thing that Gracie had ever seen. They were truly a family united by love, and for a moment Grace wanted that so badly for herself it almost hurt. That would be her and Roman someday. Getting married, having a family. Growing old together. She knew it beyond a shadow of doubt.
* * *
The reception afterward truly was a feast, but the guilt chewing a hole in Roman’s gut made it almost impossible to eat. He found himself wishing there was a family dog he could slip his dinner to, the way he had when he was a kid. When Gracie asked him if something was wrong, he told her the whiskey he’d drunk earlier had upset his stomach. Her look of sympathy, and her offer to go find him an antacid, nearly did him in.
He would drink himself into a stupor if he thought it would help, but he’d never been one to use alcohol as a crutch. He knew too many soldiers who turned to drinking to deal with their PTSD and he refused to go there. But at times like this it was tempting.
After dinner they mingled, but Roman noticed that Sutton, back in his wheelchair, didn’t look so good. Maybe a little bit of Grace was rubbing off on Roman. He could hardly believe he had sympathy for the man, considering what a son of a bitch he’d always been. Sitting alone with his nurse at his side, Sutton looked so old and frail and sullen. He was too weak to even dance with Nora. And Roman felt compelled to do something.
What the hell.
Roman walked over to Sutton, nudged his nurse aside and said, “You look like you need a breather.”
The relief was clear on Sutton’s face. “My suite,” he said, so Roman pushed him there, and strangely enough no one seemed to notice or care. The shark was gone, reduced to nothing more than...a goldfish. A sick, helpless old man. But Roman knew that he would never be forgotten. He’d made his mark on the world, and no one could ever take that from him. But clearly he was ready to throw in the towel. Ready to let someone take over his legacy. He had groomed Eve to be the shark that he’d once been, but with her softer side, she would rule the family business with compassion and heart. And she would never have to live with the regret that was so obvious in Sutton’s expression. He’d lived large and fast, and burned out before his time. Roman hoped that if nothing else, Sutton’s children had learned from his mistakes.
Sutton ordered his nurse to take her seat in the hallway, and when the door was closed and they were alone, he told Roman, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I needed a breather, too,” he said, brushing his thanks off, realizing that it was actually disturbing to see such a powerful man reduced to this. What a terrible way to go.
“Help me into bed?” Sutton asked, surprising Roman again.
Without a word Roman helped him undress and change into his pajamas. He was too weak to stand so Roman literally had to lift him into his bed.
“I’m tired, Roman,” he said, as he settled back against the pillows. “I’m tired of fighting.”
“I understand,” Roman said, and he did. There were times, as a POW, when he’d been tempted to give up, to let the enemy win, but he’d kept on fighting. But his enemy had been radical Al Qaeda soldiers. Sutton’s enemy was cancer, and it was eating him from the inside out.
“I know you do,” Sutton said, then asked, “Have you heard from Agent Crosswell?”
Roman was stunned into silence, and Sutton just smiled. “I may be a sick old man, but I still have connections. After what Dax Caufield did to my daughter...” He shook his head and frowned, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it. “I knew he was crooked, but I also knew that eventually he would be exposed for who he really was. I never thought he was dangerous. Especially not to Grace. When I heard what happened I took matters into my own hands and made a few calls.”
“No, I haven’t heard from him,” Roman said. “But I’m hoping to soon.”
“You love my daughter.”
The question caught him off guard. “Yes, I do.”
He always had.
“And I trust that you’ll keep her safe.”
“I lied to her,” he said, the words coming out of nowhere. “I lied to her again.”
He expected Sutton to be angry, but instead he said, “Yes. But you did it to keep her safe.”
That didn’t make it right. “She may not see it that way.”
“Roman,”