“Visited...what a strange word. When I think back to those times you were here as a child, in my mind they’re not visits anymore. They’re...memories of my son.”
“I appreciate your saying that.”
“I mean it.” She reached out to squeeze his hand, intense eyes burning into his. “You’re mine.”
“But I wouldn’t have been if my biological mother hadn’t been such a loser. You would have stayed Aunt Jeannie.”
“If, if, if.” She waved her hand as if she cleared the air of smoke. “That doesn’t matter. I think in terms of ‘what is.’ And you were destined to be my boy. So, son of mine, what’s wrong?”
He weighed whether to tell her. He didn’t want to add more worry to her wedding week. He started to deny any problem, but he saw the determined look in her eyes, an expression he recognized well. She wasn’t going to give up.
He took a bracing swig of beer, then admitted, “Isabeau’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” She set her sandwich down slowly. “I did not expect that. Although maybe I would have considered the possibility of you two as a couple if I wasn’t so distracted these days. You two have been rather...cozy. So that means...”
“Yes, the baby is mine.”
Smiling, she opened her arms. “Congratulations. Becoming a grandma is wonderful news...” She paused, her arms falling to her sides. “But you’re not smiling.”
Because his plans for the future were in tatters. His hopes for a future with Isabeau, gone.
“She turned down my proposal. She said I don’t love her and that I’m only trying to create the perfect family my birth mother wrecked.”
“Do you feel there’s any truth to that? Do you love her?”
Love her? He exhaled hard. “Mom, how the hell would I know? I just know I’m wrecked at the thought of living without her.”
Jeannie’s eyebrows pinched together in the worried mother look she’d worn more than once over the years. “How do you know? I can’t tell you what you feel. I can just say that I’ve fallen in love—and been loved in return—twice in my life. Both times were different. Your father was my high school sweetheart, a love that builds over years, a love that matures together. With Jack? It was more like a blindsiding of emotion. A lightning strike when he walked into a room and I saw him with fresh eyes, knowing that my life would never be the same in a very good and amazing way.” The worry lines smoothed, her eyes wise. The wisest he’d ever known. “Trystan, Isabeau looks at you with that ‘struck by lightning’ look. Make your decision and treat her heart with care.”
Her words cut through him, the thought of hurting Isabeau paining him worse than his own heartache. The beginnings of a revelation that would change his world... He tried to smile, to make light of the revelation because having his world change so drastically wasn’t totally comfortable. “I thought you would be on my side.”
“I am. Always. I want you to be happy. You’re my son and I love you. Unconditionally.” She reached to cup his cheek. “I have to confess though, I would hope you felt you had the perfect family here with us. I know that Charles and I found our family to be finally complete once you became ours.”
Guilt tweaked at him over her words and the sense that he might have hurt her. “Mom, you know I love you.”
“I do know that, son.”
Son.
He’d heard the word from her a million times, but right now, for some unknown reason, it resonated. Deeply. Instilling peace and confidence in him to face what was right there waiting for him.
He was Jeannie and Charles Mikkelson’s son. He’d had the perfect family as their son—he still did.
And now it was time for him to build a family with Isabeau. The woman he loved.
Yes, loved.
He just prayed she loved him too.
* * *
Her heart still raw from her breakup with Trystan, Isabeau wondered how she would make it through this Mikkelson-Steele wedding without bursting into tears. But she was here, as per her job, and she would hold herself together with the help of Paige at her side.
Isabeau snuck a peek into the church, drinking in the lightness of the oak pews and the rich colors filtering in through the enormous stained glass windows. Arrangements of orchids and stephanotis lined the aisles of the church, elegant and, yes, fairy tale–like.
Her eyes blurred with tears over that other wedding a month ago, how the fairy-tale feel had tempted her so.
The man had tempted her.
The day had led to one of the most memorable evenings of her life with Trystan. The evening they’d conceived their child.
Absolutely breathtaking.
Her heart pounded, nerves getting the better of her even with her Lab leaning against her leg. She’d been invited to the bridal room before the ceremony. Things had been...tense over the last few days. And that was putting it mildly. But she’d promised to see this job through to the end.
Which was how she wound up at Jack and Jeannie’s wedding and in the bridal room with all the women in the family. Jeannie’s daughters, her daughter-in-law and her soon-to-be stepdaughters flanked her, forming a semicircle around the bride. Her lacy tea-length gown was bespoke elegance.
Jeannie’s light blond hair was streaked with moonlight gray, making her seem ethereal. Especially since her hair was gathered into a French twist with embedded baby’s breath and peonies.
No doubt, Jeannie Mikkelson was a stunning woman. But she wore joy as visibly as her pearl-and-diamond earrings and necklace. Truly, the blissful expression on her face became her most beautiful accessory.
With the skill set of a conductor, Jeannie moved her hand across her body, gesturing for the conversation to fade. As commanding as she was beautiful.
“Girls, my dear girls, I want to thank you all for being here today to celebrate. I realize this wedding could have been something to divide a family, but it means
