Page 14 of The Wedding Toast (The Hamiltons #10)

A moment later, she dashed out from behind the tree, a blur of dark curls and a long flowy dress. She disappeared behind the next tree and giggled again.

“Do you want to play?” she called.

He turned away and went to sit on the low wall, running his hand over the warm stone, not sure that he did want to play. But she was certainly entertaining.

“Do you want to talk?” he called back.

There were a few beats of silence before she reappeared from behind the second tree, moving more slowly this time. Her arms hung loosely by her sides as she approached. When she stopped several feet away from him, she blinked, tilting her head to the side to study him closely.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked eventually.

Reaves shrugged. “I thought you might have some ideas.”

At that she closed the final distance between them and hopped up onto the wall to sit beside him. She surprised him by taking hold of his hand and running her little fingers over the back of it.

“Do you really want to talk to me?” she asked, sounding thoroughly surprised.

“I do,” he nodded solemnly, since it seemed important to her. “Why would I not?”

She shrugged, bringing her shoulders all the way up to her ears and holding them there for a beat before letting them drop again. “People don’t usually want to talk to me.”

He frowned. “And why is that, do you think?”

She pursed her lips. “Grown-ups are too busy with problems of their own, mostly,” she said with the air of one who knows.

Reaves didn’t know if it was a comment about her mom or an observation about people in general – and he didn’t think he should ask. “Well, I don’t have any problems this afternoon and I have time on my hands. So, I’d like to talk to you.”

He held his hand out. She rested her chin on her fist, staring up at him for a moment, making him feel more deeply scrutinized than most adults ever had. He was relieved when she finally took hold of his hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Then we shall talk,” she announced with a nod. “My name is Zia. What’s yours?”

“I’m Reaves.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s a funny name.”

“I suppose it is, but it’s mine.”

She smiled at that. “Do you have more names?”

He chuckled. “Why yes, I do. I am Reaves Brandon St. James. And you?”

“I am Zia Rose Brighton.”

“That’s pretty,” said Reaves.

“Thank you, I think so. I like your name better though. It’s very… fancy. You’re not a real saint, are you?”

He chuckled. “Far from it, I’m afraid.”

She gave him a puzzled look but continued. “So where did you get your name?”

“The same way I think most people get their last name. My father gave it to me.”

As soon as the words were out, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He knew that Zia was here with her mother, but he had no idea if there was a father in the picture. Fortunately, his comment didn’t throw her off stride.

“I’d like to meet your father.” Her mock formal tone had him smiling like an idiot and he didn’t know why. Well, perhaps he was wondering what his dad would make of this little imp.

“Well,” he said, deciding to match her tone, “I am pleased to tell you that your wish will be granted. On Saturday – if you are here for the wedding.”

Her little eyes lit up. “We are. Did you know that my mom’s building the arch for the king and queen of the cornflowers?”

He bit back a laugh. “Yeah, I think I heard something about that.”

Zia swung her legs and braced her hands on the wall as she leaned past him to look down toward the garage. “She’s down there right now, building. That’s how she does it. She makes all the frames in the days before. But she won’t put the flowers on until the morning.”

She turned her big green eyes on him, looking so sad that it hit him right in the chest. “The flowers will die too soon if she puts them on the arch earlier.” She heaved out a big sigh. “They’re going to die anyway. That’s what happens to them when you cut them down, you know.”

Reaves found himself nodding, suddenly sad at the fate of cut flowers. He pulled himself together. “The cornflowers would die at the end of the season anyway, though.”

As soon as he spoke the words, he again wondered if he should have kept his mouth shut. A wave of relief washed over him when she smiled up at him.

“That’s true, isn’t it? And at least the ones who go into the arch will become part of history since they’ll be in the wedding photos – and their lives will be a great adventure.”

“They will,” Reaves agreed, even though all of a sudden he was wondering what cornflowers would consider to be a great adventure, and whether being part of a wedding would be on the list.

Zia pulled him from his thoughts when she slipped her little hand inside his and announced, “I like you.”

He wasn’t prepared for the rush of warmth that filled his chest at her words. Just a few moments ago, he would have sworn that he couldn’t care less if this girl liked him or not. Now it seemed incredibly important that he shouldn’t do anything to change her opinion.

He gave her hand a squeeze. “Thank you. I have to say I like you, too.”

She gave him a mischievous little grin. “You didn’t want to like me, did you?”

He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “Lots of people don’t. I don’t mind.”

He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the kid and give her a hug. “The people who don’t like you aren’t worth your time,” he told her. Then he felt like a fool when she looked at him as if he was pretty dumb for stating the obvious.

“I know that. Are you a daddy?”

He sat back, surprised by the change of subject.

She tilted her head to the side as she watched him closely.

“I’m not,” he said. “Why?”

“Because I can tell.”

He chuckled with her. “And how’s that?”

“You don’t know how to talk to me, even though you said you wanted to.”

“That’s true,” he admitted. Do you think people who are already dads know how to talk to you?”

“Oh no, but they think they do.”

That made him laugh. “You’re an insightful young lady, aren’t you?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yes, but it’s lonely sometimes.”

Reaves’s chest tightened, and he wanted even more to give the kid a hug. “You’ll have lots of people to hang out with while you’re here,” he said.

“I know. But just because there’s lots of people around doesn’t mean it’s not lonely.”

“That’s right,” said Reaves. “Well, I’m going to be busy bringing people in for the wedding a lot of the time, but I’ll come find you and hang out with you when I can.”

The huge smile that lit up her face made him feel like a hero.

“You will?” she asked. “You want to?”

“I do,” he told her honestly. “I don’t know about you, Miss Zia, but I feel like I just made a new friend.”

She wriggled closer until she was leaning against his side and rested her cheek against his arm.

“I’m very happy for you to be my new friend. And you still need a name.”

He gave her a puzzled smile. He’d already told her his name, so he waited.

After a few moments she leaned back to look up into his eyes.

“I shall name you Prince Daddy.”

“Prince Daddy?” he asked.

“That’s right,” she said as she slipped down from the wall. “One day you will be king of all the daddies. Because you’ll be good at it, I know you will. I can tell. But you aren’t one yet, so you’re only a prince.”

Reaves wasn’t sure if his laughter was more at her description or at himself for the fact that it made perfect sense to him.

She took hold of his hand and tugged. “We should go back to the house now. Elena has cookies.”

“Do we need to check on your mom first?” he asked.

“That’s okay. She’s working.”

She tugged on his hand again, but she must have seen the concern in his eyes.

“She loves me. And she takes very good care of me. The only reason I’m allowed to run wild is because here in the Cornflower Kingdom, everything’s safe. There are walls and a growly dragon at the front gate, so that no intruders may enter.”

Reaves couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud – she had to be referring to Slade. “Okay. In that case… let’s go find those cookies.”