For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,57
“I’ve thought about that and I promise to make it as easy as possible on both of you. I’ll even put it in the contract if you wish. I mean, I would never fight for custody or do anything to hurt her.”
“Oh, you better believe I’d demand that. I could never let anything happen to my daughter.”
It was time to play my biggest card. “This is another reason why it would help. If I adopt Easton, it would make it that much harder for Stuart to get his hands on her.”
English actually nodded at that. I wasn’t there yet, but at least she was talking to me. “That is the only reason I would entertain this crazy notion of yours.”
“Fair enough. Would you like for me to set up an appointment with the attorney so you could at least see what the contract would look like?”
After biting the tip of her nail for a minute, she agreed.
“We could go together after work one day next week, if that works.”
“Okay, but no promises.”
“None at all.”
We went inside where dinner preparations were taking place and we both asked if we could help. Beck handed me the heavy platter laden with steaks and I followed him outside.
“Looks like the two of you are getting along now,” Beck said.
“Better than we were. She’s at least speaking to me. I feel terrible about the way this all panned out. I know it’s stressful for her.”
“Tristian, it’s stressful either way. We’re all on the edge of our seats over Stuart, his father, and what they’re planning.”
The sizzle of meat hitting the hot grill grates sent the aroma of beef straight to my nose. It reminded me of how long it had been since my last meal and my belly growled in protest. “Those look amazing.”
“My master chef skills will astound you.”
I was sure he was serious until I noticed his grin. “Just don’t ruin those things.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to face the wrath of Sheridan. She hates burnt steaks.”
“I’m right there with her.”
When the steaks were finished, we went inside to a table set for dinner. Sheridan had baked potatoes and all the sides ready, plus a huge salad. We took our seats and began to eat.
Beck raised his glass and made a toast. “Here’s to the beginning of a new family. Welcome to our world, Tristian.”
“When do I get to call you Daddy?” Easton asked.
English stared at me, open-mouthed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
English
Tristian went to cook steaks with Dad and the next thing I knew, Easton wanted to call him Daddy. Fuck my life. This thing had hurricaned out of control and that was one thing I didn’t need. “Easton, there’ll be plenty of time to call Mr. Tristian Daddy.”
“Okay, but will you tell me when?”
“Yep.”
“Can I be the flower girl?”
“Sure.”
“Can I wear a dress just like yours?”
“We’ll think about it.”
“Will you have a long white one with lots of sparkles?”
“Not sure about that yet.” Aggravation laced my tone as I snapped. My daughter was the most inquisitive thing in the world. A white wedding dress with lots of sparkles. The next thing she’d want would be a tiara. I could already see us.
“Mommy, can I wear my sparkly tiara and carry my wand?”
Oof, this was getting worse. “Honey, I think maybe flowers in your hair might be better. What do you think?”
“But I’m a princess and princesses wear sparkly tiaras. And you can wear one too.”
“Okay, I have an idea. Why don’t we eat and we’ll talk about this later?” Her steak and potato were cut into small pieces, so all she had to do was stab the beef and chew the damn stuff.
“All right.”
I watched her take a bite as I did the same. Mom hid her chuckle behind a napkin. This farce of a wedding would be epically gaudy if Easton had her way. I pictured myself in a white Southern belle-type gown, encrusted with pearls and sequins, while a rhinestone tiara perched high on my head.
“Mommy, are you going to wear your hair curly?”
“I don’t know yet, sweetie. I’ll figure that out later.”
“Mr. Trishan Dad, what are you gonna wear? Will you dress like a prince?”
Mr. Trishan Dad? Where the hell had she come up with that?
“I don’t know,” Tristian said. “What does a prince wear?”
“A crown with lots of things on his coat.”
“I see. That might be a problem because I don’t have a crown.”
“Boppy can buy you one, can’t you, Boppy?”
“Not sure about that, Easton,” Dad said. “But eat your dinner,