Page 119 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

A princess bed.

Books every night.

A little brother who was her very best friend.

Cross had so many things he wanted to tell her. So many things he could tell her that were running through his mind about her life, and how she had changed his with one single breath. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

Not right now.

Not yet.

“I love you, Daddy,” Cece said quietly.

He nodded, and for a second, his smile faltered. She couldn’t see it, though, because he was still kissing her forehead.

“I love you, my Cece.”

Cece pulled back with another wide smile. “Are you ready to walk me down the aisle?”

He smiled back.

No, he thought.

“Whatever you need,” he said instead.

It was just them left behind the church doors, now.

Cross and Cece.

The flower girl had gone.

The ring bearer, too.

All the bridesmaids, and Cece’s maid of honor.

It was just them, now.

Her fingers tightened around Cross’s arm as she glanced down at the bouquet of white and pink roses decorated with jewels.

“Did you see Nazio with Rosalynn today?” Cece asked.

She said it in a whisper, like someone might be around to hear them, and she didn’t want her secrets overheard. All conspiratorial and amused like her mother was whenever Catherine had some cute secret to share.

It almost made Cross laugh, really.

“I did see them,” Cross mused. “Quite a pair.”

“It’s only been a month,” Cece pointed out.

“And yet, you can’t separate them.”

Zeke was both amused and frustrated that his almost eighteen-year-old daughter had suddenly found she would much rather chase Cross’s son to the ends of the earth and back instead of her dreams of becoming a world-class pianist.

Thing was … Cross knew Rosalynn would get back to her dreams, only now, with someone good and honorable to make sure she followed through. Once the newness of a first love was settled with them both, the girl would find her way back to the dreams that followed her from the time she was a young lady. Nazio would be her greatest supporter at the end of every day, and at the beginning of each morning.

Because that’s who Naz was.

That’s how they raised him to be.