Page 79 of Never Stop

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Easton

“Don’t you think I’m too old to be a flower girl?” Cheyenne asked, slurping spaghetti into her mouth.

We were sitting around our dining room table, eating dinner. Brooke was asking Cheyenne if she wanted to go dress shopping for our wedding.

“You’re gonna be more than a flower girl,” I countered. “You’ll have the rings too.”

She scrunched her nose. “That’s a boy’s job.”

“Anyone can do it, Peanut. We want you to be our only little special person.” I looked to Brooke and she smiled. I knew she agreed with me.

“It will be fun. You’ll get to throw the petals on the ground as you walk toward your daddy, then give him the pretty rings so he can slip it on my finger.” Brooke looked toward Cheyenne and smiled brightly.

“It’s either that or you sit with Grandma,” Easton said, “and you don’t get to be a part of our special day.”

Cheyenne looked at me and glared. Then she turned back to Brooke and then back at me. “Fine. But I get to wear makeup like Brooke.”

I sucked in a breath, the thought of Cheyenne growing up and wearing makeup. It was too much. She was only eleven.

“Lip gloss only,” Brooke countered.

“But—”

Brooke shook her head slightly. “No buts. You’re too beautiful to wear makeup, sweetie.”

“Youwear makeup.”

My woman chuckled. “Only when I have to. Taking the time to put it on sucks.”

Cheyenne stared at her as though she was thinking about if Brooke wore makeup every day. She didn’t, and she didn’t need to wear it either. She was beautiful just the way she was.

“Fine,” Cheyenne groaned. “I want to wear at least lipstick.”

For the love of God.

Brooke turned toward me. I wanted to object. Tell Cheyenne she wasn’t allowed to wear makeup until she was eighteen. Hell, I wanted to lock her in her room until she was eighteen because she was growing up too fast and before I knew it, she’d be a teenager.

I nodded slowly at Brooke, slightly telling her it was okay. It really wasn’t, but it was only one day. A special day.

“Deal,” Brooke said. “I’ll even have the hair people do your hair.”

Cheyenne’s face brightened as she smiled. “Okay.”

I pointed my fork at Cheyenne. “You only get to wear lipstick because it’s a special day, Peanut. After that, you wear only Chapstick until you’re eighteen.”

Brooke stifled a laugh.

“Daddy!”

I shook my head. “You heard me.”

“You’resounfair,” she whined and crossed her arms over her chest.

Today was the day.

Today I was making Brooke my wife.