The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

Her mom pushed on Esme until she stepped toward him, and Esme said, “Schumacher? Is that your name? Phil Schumacher?”

Puzzled creases darkened his brow. “Phil Schuma— No, I’m not a Schumacher. My name is Gleaves. Gleaves Philander. I went by Phil until I grew into Gleaves,” he said with an apologetic smile before his eyes widened with horror. “That’s why you couldn’t find me? All you knew was Phil. You’ve been looking for a Philip.”

“Do we want to postpone the wedding and talk about this somewhere in private?” Quân asked as he stalked down the aisle toward their small group.

Before anyone could answer, there was another commotion behind them. “Sir, there’s a wedding—”

“I’m here for the wedding,” a familiar voice said, and Kh?i burst into the room, looking out of sorts with his hair standing up in all directions and his chest billowing on heavy breaths like he’d run here. He took one look at Esme, and his eyes went dreamy.

“You’re late,” Quân said.

Without taking his eyes away from Esme, Kh?i said, “There was traffic, but it helped that I rode the motorcycle here. I went around the stopped cars.”

“About time,” Quân said.

But Kh?i didn’t acknowledge his brother. He was watching Esme like he usually did, with complete, undivided attention. “I’m sorry I’m late—with riding the bike and coming here.”

She shook her head. Once she’d seen the photograph of his cousin next to the motorcycle, everything had clicked into place. “No need for sorry. I understand you.”

Kh?i swallowed and stepped toward her, stretched his fingers out, relaxed them, stretched them out again. “Is the wedding over already? There was something I needed to say.”

“No, it is not over.” Esme’s hands shook, so she tightened them on her bouquet. He was here. He’d come. He had something important to say.

Her hope grew so big she didn’t know how her body held it.

His shoulders sagged in relief before he noticed the other wedding crasher next to him. “Who are you?”

The man—very possibly her dad—fumbled for words for a moment before he said, “I’m Gleaves.”

Kh?i nodded like everything was perfectly normal. “You must be the right Phil, then. Glad you made it.”

“You’re the one who left the voice message,” Gleaves said.

“You never called me back.”

“I hopped on the next plane out.”

“That’s good—” Whatever Kh?i would have said next was interrupted when Jade ran down the aisle and latched onto Esme’s skirts.

“He’s C?u Kh?i,” Jade said.

Kh?i’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Jade. “There’s a tiny Esme.”

Esme’s heart slammed hard as she glanced from Kh?i to Gleaves and back. Both men looked dumbfounded. “Her name is Jade. She is mine.”

Jade huddled closer.

Kh?i’s eyes met hers. “You never told me.”

“Cô Nga said you did not want a family, and I was afraid, and—” She bit her lip. She didn’t have any more arguments than that.

What had he come here to say? Had this news changed things?

She lifted her chin. If he thought she was unclassy for having a baby so young, he didn’t deserve her or Jade.

He surprised her by crouching down, considering Jade, and holding his hand out like they were acquaintances meeting for business.

Jade glanced at Esme for a second before she eased toward Kh?i. After looking at him for a long while, she shook his hand like a little grown-up.