It was the first time Tristan spotted pure panic in his older brother's eyes. "Umm, princess, we were only joking around."
"I'm not," she whispered. "Catch you boys later."
She sashayed away in her pink dress and kitten heels, leaving them in shocked silence.
"She's mean," Dalton finally said. "It must be the Southerner in her."
"You're such an asshole," Cal muttered. "You just had to push her."
"Me? I'm not the one who stated I'd be in charge for the rest of her natural life. That's like red to a bull, dude. She'd better not tell Raven, either, or I'll be pissed."
Tristan laughed out loud, a rush of sibling affection cutting through the mess. Damn, he loved them, even though they were batshit crazy, especially since they'd found the women they loved.
"Daddy! Is it time for cake?"
His daughter's voice warmed his ears, and he scooped her up for a brief hug, appreciating her giggles, before releasing her back to the ground. He noticed his brothers' surprise at her easy endearment. They'd had a long talk, and he'd been willing to wait as long as it took for Becca to call him Dad. Hell, as much as it hurt, he'd have taken Uncle Tristan or even his first name. He never wanted to push her into anything she wasn't comfortable with.
But damned if she hadn't asked him right away if it was okay. Even now, his insides felt all mushy when he heard it. His beautiful, perfect daughter wanted to claim him as hers, and he'd never been so proud in his whole life.
"Yes, let's get your mom. Think she'll let me smoosh the cake in her face?"
"No! That'd be mean." Her green eyes twinkled merrily. "But funny."
"I think her revenge may be too scary," he confided.
Becca nodded. "Once, my friend-who is not really my friend-was bullying me. She liked to tell me to do stuff and then push me down when no one was around. She made me cry, which made me so mad. I finally told Mama, and she called my not friend's mom, and said some really scary things to her. Then she went to the teacher at school and it all stopped and I was so happy. Emma-my not friend-still hates me, but she never pushed me again. And then I met Lyndsey and Tracey and they're my best friends."
Tristan frowned. The idea of anyone hurting Becca made him nuts. He didn't know what he'd do. There was so much negotiation in the world of parenting today, and things were so different. His father had used brutal force to gain discipline, but his mother had always been his soft spot in the world. Sydney was so like her. He saw all the qualities of good parenting and fierce love in Becca. He only hoped he could rise to the occasion and be the father she deserved. "So, your mom kicked some butt. Like Black Widow."
"Who?"
"Oh, umm, Wonder Woman."
Becca laughed. "Yeah! Or Batgirl!"
He made a note to coach her on the coolness of superheroes and expand her knowledge. "Then I'm definitely not doing the cake thing."
Becca grabbed his hand and pulled him toward Sydney. "I won't tell Mama you even thought about it," she whispered with a mischievous grin.
And just like that, they shared their first secret.
It was an epic moment.
chapter eighteen
Sydney stiffened as the door shut behind her.
The last of the wedding guests had finally departed. The caterers and servers had cleaned up. The kitchen sparkled, the leftovers were neatly packed up, the remains of the cake had been stored in the freezer for their first anniversary.
No trace remained of the wedding, which only made the day seem more like a dream than reality. She swayed on her bare feet and squinted as Tristan's image blurred into two.
Yep. Shouldn't have had that last glass of champagne.
Oh well, screw it. She was bone weary and sick at heart and craved some isolation and a soft bed. Maybe tomorrow she'd be stronger and more capable of dealing with the future. "I'm going to tuck Becca in," she announced.
He walked into the kitchen. He'd shed his jacket. Unbuttoned the first buttons on his snowy-white shirt. His tie was unknotted. Her stomach did a low, slow flip at the strong column of his throat and the sexy mussed-up look of him. "We both will."
She bit back her protest and forced a nod. "Fine. Let's go."
She turned a bit too fast, swayed again, and he clamped a hand on her arm. The shock of his touch skittered through her. "Need help?"
Damn him. She stuck her chin up like she wasn't tipsy and aroused. "No, I'm fine."
He dropped his hand. She stalked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and found Becca in her new room. The walls were a muted pink, and she'd gotten a new furniture set in white. Her butterfly comforter was bright and colorful, and already she'd arranged her stuffed animals and books in neat piles on the shelves, hinting at an OCD trait she'd seemed to inherit from her father. She was dressed in her favorite Belle nightgown, with a frilly collar and a hem that hit the floor. Sydney sat on the edge of the bed, and Tristan stood behind her.