The Bachelor Takes a Bride

“More than three weeks.”

“But who’s counting?”

“We missed you,” she told him.

“Rebecca—the new waitress—asked for a couple of weeks off in July to go home to Minnesota because she hasn’t seen her parents since Christmas.”

“Because they live in Minnesota,” she said, stating the obvious.

“Maybe I should move.”

His sister chuckled. “As if. When you moved out, Mama cried for three days, and you felt so guilty, you almost moved back home again.”

“No one knows how to guilt a man like his mother,” Marco agreed.

“We done bwushed our teef,” Bella called down.

“Uncle Marco’s on his way up to tuck you in,” Renata told her daughters. Then, to him, “They’re going to want a bedtime story.”

“I haven’t forgotten the routine in three weeks,” he assured her, already heading for the stairs.

He sat on Anna’s bed, between both of the girls tucked under the covers, and read them a bedtime story. They giggled at the different voices he gave to the characters and responded with gasps and sighs in appropriate places. When the story was finished, they were both fighting to keep their eyes open. He slid off the bed, returned the book to its shelf, kissed Anna’s forehead, then scooped Bella up and carried her across the room to tuck her into her own bed.

He loved sharing the nighttime routine with his nieces—and with his nephews, when he was at Tony and Gemma’s house. But it was always a little sad to go home to his too-quiet apartment afterward and crawl into an empty bed.

It wouldn’t be much of a hardship to find a woman to share his bed for one night or even a few. The harder part was finding the woman he wanted there for the long term. He wasn’t one of those commitment-shy guys who was only looking for a good time—he wanted to fall in love and get married and read bedtime stories to his own kids at night. But until that happened, he had be content spending time with his nieces and nephews.

When he returned to the main level, Renata was in the living room folding a load of laundry with the news on TV.

“Are they asleep?”

“You know they won’t fall asleep until their mom kisses them good-night.”

She pushed herself up from the sofa. “Then I’d better go do so.”

While she was upstairs, he busied himself washing up the plates and cups the girls had used.

“You’re going to be a great father someday,” Renata said when she came back downstairs. “And a great husband to some lucky woman.”

“You’re only saying that because I’m tidying up your kitchen.”

“And because you brought me tiramisu.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“The right woman is out there,” his sister said.

He nodded. “I know.”

“I just don’t want you to get discouraged—wondering when you’re finally going to meet her.”

“I already did.”

She considered that as she picked up a towel to dry the dishes he’d washed. “So when are the rest of us going to meet her?”

“Not for a while.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want some time and space to get to know her better before the family scares her away.”

“We’re not scary,” she protested.

“Are you kidding? I was born into this family and I’m terrified by major holiday events with the whole clan.”

“If she’s going to be the mother of your future children, she’s got to meet us someday.”

“Someday,” he agreed.

Nata sighed. “Are you at least going to tell me her name?”

“No.”

“Does she really exist?”

“Of course she exists.”

“That’s what you said about Tessa Wheeler, your make-believe girlfriend in high school.”

He glanced away. “She was real.”

“A real person,” his sister acknowledged. “But she wasn’t really your girlfriend—she didn’t even know you existed.”

“I was a sophomore,” he pointed out in his defense.

“And while I would certainly hope you’d outgrown manufacturing fantasy girlfriends, you should appreciate how your refusal to give me a name is cause for concern.”

“If I’d made her up, don’t you think I would have made up a name for her?”

“And what name would that be?” she challenged.

Renata was nothing if not relentless, and he knew she wouldn’t quit badgering until he gave her something. He decided her name was harmless enough.

“Jordyn,” he finally said.

Her brows lifted. “Jordyn Garrett?”

He frowned. “Where did that come from?”