A Merry Vested Wedding - Melanie Moreland Page 0,7

were scattered throughout it. He was a handsome, distinguished man, his posture straight, his shoulders still broad. He worked out with my uncle Aiden daily and could easily run circles around my brother or cousins. Something he liked to do on the basketball court weekly.

I smiled at him, crossing the room. “Hi, Dad.”

His return smile was tight. “Addi.”

I grabbed a cup and held it out. He filled it for me, indicating a plate. “Your mom made you some cinnamon raisin scones last night. I knew you’d want them this morning.”

I loved my mom’s scones—especially the cinnamon raisin ones. I bent and kissed his cheek, sliding my arms around his neck for a hug. “Thanks.”

He wrapped me in a fast embrace. “No problem.”

I sat beside him, picking up a scone.

“You’re up even earlier than I thought you’d be,” he observed, taking a sip of coffee.

I peeked at the clock—it was barely after five.

“Big day.”

He huffed into his cup. I studied him in the low light. He looked weary this morning. Still calm and unruffled—stoic and stern, but weary.

Bentley Ridge was a legend. He was known as a hard-nosed, brilliant businessman. Unflappable. Detached. His company, BAM, was synonymous with quality. What started out as a dream for him in college had grown beyond even his expectations. Together with my “uncles” Aiden Callaghan and Maddox Riley, they had built an empire. Land development, construction, office buildings, housing, house flips, and everything in between, they were known for their excellence. And now, the next generation, including Brayden and me, ran ABC, focused on the outskirts of Toronto and finding new income streams, concentrating on the commercial aspects. A successful resort, a winery I had rescued from ruin, and a small private grouping of retirement cottages were some of our most profitable triumphs so far.

I was often compared to my father. I had inherited his business acumen and his stern resting face. While other little girls were playing with dolls, I sat on my dad’s knee, listening and learning. I was known as severe and humorless. Emotionless. I had been referred to often as “a chip off the old block.” Strangely enough, that comparison didn’t bother me at all. I considered it a compliment. Like my father, I didn’t much care what the business world thought of me personally. I let my record speak for itself.

But the faces we showed the world and those we showed the people we loved were vastly different. My dad was one of the kindest, generous, and most loving men in the world. Behind closed doors, with his family and those he treasured, he smiled and laughed. Teased and cajoled. Thought nothing of getting on the floor and wrestling my siblings or giving me a piggyback ride when we were younger. Sitting beside us, explaining homework and helping us understand. His patience with us always amazed me, given his cut-and-dried persona with business. With his extended family, he showed the same love and caring. He was loyal and protective. Always ready to help out or offer encouragement.

His adoration for my mother hadn’t diminished over the years. Their love was a constant, steady light—a beacon for me and an example I wanted to live by. They still looked at each other with love and lit up when the other would enter a room. My father fussed over my mom, constantly bringing her gifts of soft shawls or fuzzy socks to keep her warm. Every floor in the house had been redone with radiant heating—he couldn’t bear to see her cold. She watched over him zealously, accepting his need to care for her easily, knowing how much it meant to him. She made him smile, even on the darkest days, and reminded him, more than once, life and family came first.

The same lesson she drummed into our heads.

I touched his hand. “You okay, Dad?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

“You look tired. I’m getting married today. You should be happy.” He’d seemed fine when I went up to bed last night. “You’re finally getting rid of me. All that is left is Chloe and you’ll have the place to yourself again.”

He sighed and flipped his hand over, encasing mine. “Forgive my moroseness, my girl. It hit me after you went to bed, it would be the last night I had you under my roof. Still mine to look after. As of today, Brayden will be the one who cares for you.” I was shocked to see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. “Your home