Now he stood in the backyard, the party tapering down. Many of the senator’s Southern guests had taken leave, as they called it, which was just fine with Yank. The women and their umbrellas and finery, the old men and their fine talk. He’d been like a goddamn fish out of water, is what he’d been. Even with his friends here—like Curly and, of course, Spencer—Yank had kept getting nudged in the ribs by Lola. Minding his manners and his p’s and q’s wasn’t his way. Never had been.
The only good thing was that Spencer’s fruitcake sisters had behaved worse than Yank ever had. Rose and Darla had both dived for the bridal bouquet, pushing the younger women out of the way, ending up fighting each other smack dab in the middle of the dance floor. In the end, they’d split the bouquet in half, though Yank couldn’t see what kind of man would have either of the nut jobs. He had to admit Spencer’s niece, Amy, seemed nice enough, but she had her hands full keeping her mother and aunt in line.
The day was almost over and Yank shook his head in disbelief. He’d raised and married off all three of his girls. Hell, he’d even gone and gotten married himself. How the heck had that happened? he wondered.
Well, at least he still had his Cubans, he thought, patting his breast pocket. He’d hand the suckers out when Lola’s back was turned. The woman had eyes like a hawk.
God how he loved her.
“What are you thinking about?” Lola asked, coming up beside him and linking her arm through his.
“Just admiring my handiwork.”
She looked up at him, confused. “What handiwork?”
“Well, the girls and their men, of course!” He pointed to their family gathered beneath the large white tent.
“The girls all found themselves perfect mates, which as far as I can see, had nothing whatsoever to do with you.” Lola patted his shoulder. “But you tell yourself whatever makes you happy, honey.”
Now he knew she was goading him on purpose. Probably because she liked kissing and making up so much. “Now, Lola, give me due credit. I was the one who made sure Annabelle went up to Greenlawn to work on Vaughn’s resort PR, wasn’t I?”
“You were,” she agreed. “You were also the one who showed up unannounced, st
ayed and drove them insane.”
“Surveying the lay of the land, so to speak. Checkin’ up on them.”
Lola frowned. “You were running away from me and you know it. Annabelle and Vaughn found their way to each other on their own, no thanks to you.”
“I sent him after her,” he insisted. “Now take Micki and Damian. Who arranged it so Micki had to be the one to go on down to Florida to handle the Renegades’ publicity?” Lola nodded. “You did. Where she was set up and ended up in a strip joint. Admit it, Micki and Damian had some real issues standing between them. That they came together is a credit to them not you.”
Yank groaned at her stubbornness. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.
“And before you go saying you’re responsible for Sophie and Riley being together, that had everything to do with Spencer running off to Florida and nothing to do with you.”
The woman wouldn’t give him credit for a dang thing.
“But there is something you get one-hundred-percent credit for,” she said, her voice softening as she leaned in close.
He inhaled, enjoying having her near. He might not be able to see her so well, but he knew every last thing about her and that was all that mattered.
“Is that a new perfume you’re wearing?” he asked, enjoying the sexy scent.
“Why yes, it is,” she said, her voice rising with pleasure.
He nodded with satisfaction. Women liked it if a man noticed the little things, he’d learned. It had only taken him almost thirty years to get that through his thick skull, not that he’d admit what a slow learner he was to Lola.
Besides tonight his attentiveness might get him some action with his loving wife.
“Now pay attention,” Lola chided. “Don’t you want to know what I’m giving you credit for?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, I certainly do.”
“You raised three absolutely wonderful young women. Caring, kind, smart, strong, beautiful and, most importantly, brave.” Lola lovingly caressed his cheek with her soft hand.
His stomach flipped like a kid’s at Christmas. Instead of her impact on him diluting since they’d been married, it had only grown stronger. Her approval meant so much to him, but he no longer let it scare him. Instead he accepted it as the way things were.
“Go on,” he said gruffly.