Page 67 of Heart Breaker

“You must be Harper,” I say with a grin.

“I am. Nice to meet you, Wes. And I can see you’ve already learned that we're a family of huggers."

Claire pulls back but leaves one hand on my forearm. “Very much so,” she agrees.

"You should know, we're also nosy," Harper warns.

"Now, now. Let’s not tell your sister’s new husband all our secrets before he’s even sat down for dinner." Claire raises an eyebrow as she hooks an arm through mine and leads me to the door. "Come on," she says. "Everyone's waiting to meet you."

“Everyone? What do you mean by ‘everyone?’” Lottie sighs, following behind us. “Mom, what did you do?”

Claire winks and then pushes open the front door. That’s when I realize this isn't just dinner, it's a full-scale family event.

The past half hour has passed in a blur. Lottie hasn’t stopped, helping her mother carry trays from the kitchen, refilling drinks, hugging relatives, introducing me to cousins whose names I immediately forgot. Everywhere she goes, people reach for her, call her name, and somehow, she makes time for each of them.

The house is packed with people, dozens of relatives and old family friends milling about. There are vases of flowers covering just about every available surface, balloons tied to the staircase railing, enough food filling the dining room to feed an entire army. Someone has even hung a banner across one wall that reads, “Congratulations on your wedding!”

When Lottie walked into the house and caught sight of it all, she stopped so abruptly beside me that we almost collided. Her jaw dropped as she realized the lengths her mom had gone to.

“What?” Claire had said with an innocent shrug. “You got married. We want to celebrate the occasion! And everyone wants to meet your new husband.”

I stood there looking around the room trying to make sense of it all. Lottie’s parents had been friendly when we ran into them at the drug store, but I was preparing myself for some tough questions today. Instead, I got the warmest welcome I’ve ever received in my life. They found out their daughter secretly got married to someone they’d never met, and their response is to throw a party, not an interrogation.

The Hart family doesn’t do anything halfway. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents pressed forward to greet Lottie and me one by one, everyone dressed up and genuinely happy for us. But everyone in the room faded away when Lottie’s father, James, pushed himself up slowly from his chair. Lottie let go of my hand and crossed the room to him immediately.

“Dad,” she had said. “What are you doing? You didn’t need to get up. I was coming to you.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, once he got to his feet. “Don’t be silly, I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

He opened his arms and Lottie walked straight into his embrace. He held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. When they finally pulled apart, her father’s hand stayed wrapped around hers as she looked at him with love and concern in her eyes.

James’s illness is impossible to miss. He’s thin, his face is drawn, and his movements are slow. But despite the toll his illness is taking on his body, his eyes are clear, and they brighten every time he looks around the room.

In the thirty minutes since then, Lottie hasn’t strayed far from his side. She’s pulled a chair over from the dining room table and is sitting next to him, listening as he describes the way her mom had worked late nights to throw this party together over the past few days.

Lottie runs her hand down her dad’s arm, and my pulse stumbles under my skin. It’s so natural, the way she does it, like touching him is as familiar to her as the sound of her own name. Her father reaches for her hand and his fingers wrap around hers. She gives him a small smile and leans into him, close enough that their shoulders touch.

My chest somersaults behind my ribs at the way he looks at her, the way she leans into him without thinking, the way they seem to exist in their own little world despite the dozen conversations happening around them. I’ve seen parents love their kids and I’ve seen kids love their parents. But this feels like more, like they’re both trying to memorize something.

A lump forms in my throat as I understand the reality of what this man is facing. What Lottie’s entire family is facing.

“You know what your father did yesterday?” Claire says as she emerges from the kitchen. “He drove all the way across town to the bakery because he heard they had your favorite peach pie.”

“Dad—”

James shrugs. “I know how much you like it. Figured you can bring it home with you.”

“That was really sweet, Dad.”

James shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

Lottie’s face softens. “You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

James huffs. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It was just a drive, it’s not like I climbed Everest.”

“Pretty soon you’ll be feeling better, but until then, you need to let us all take care of you for a change.”

Before James can fight her on it, Lottie is called over by one of her cousins to settle an argument. She gives her dad’s shoulder one last squeeze before glancing at me. “You okay?” she mouths. I nod.