“Even if it makes you uncomfortable?” There was an unmistakable tension in her voice.
He knew what she was getting at. Not necessarily the money so much as the lifestyle. Claudette wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to turn into one of those guys who would force his wife to live a deprived lifestyle just because he couldn’t afford to give her more.
Nick gave Claudette his trademark grin, which was usually effective in lightening up the girls at the restaurant. He shot her a wink, and said, “I can assure you that whatever makes your daughter happy, is going to be a-okay with me.”
Lecie and Maurice danced their way back over, and without a word, Maurice handed Lecie off to Nick and reclaimed his own wife.
“What did Mama say to you?” she asked, settling happily back into Nick’s arms. He liked her there.
Nick shook his head, smiled, and said, “She just wanted to welcome me to the family.” He twirled Lecie around a couple of times and laughed. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to dance with your father.”
Lecie’s laughter pealed out and mingled pleasantly with the music.
“What was his fatherly advice?” Nick asked, and then let out a little nervous laugh, adding, “‘It’s not too late to have him whacked.’?”
“Hell, no!” she said sharply. “He wants to know when he’s going to hear some good news.” She glanced away shyly, her cheeks tainting crimson. “We’ve been married five minutes and he wants me knocked up already!”
Camille, Tasha, and Nick—most of all Nick—were wearing off on Lecie. She was really starting to sound like an American. At least she was using more and more American slang.
If Papa heard her say, knocked up, it would probably give him a heart attack.
“Are you happy, Mrs. Matthews?” Nick asked.
“I couldn’t be happier,” she said breathlessly.
“Good.” He flashed her a dazzling smile and drew her closer. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And you, Mr. Matthews?” she inquired. “Are you happy?”
“From the moment you walked into my life.” He brushed his lips against hers with a light, teasing kiss. Just enough to leave her breathless, anticipating the honeymoon.
Lecie had often looked upon her brothers over the last few years with envy. She not only envied the way they looked at their wives, but the way their wives looked at them in return. She’d never held out much hope that she might one day experience such joy. Lecie had always thought she’d have to live vicariously through her brothers.
But thanks to their uncle Edouard Renault—who was indirectly responsible for her meeting Nick—fate had indeed smiled upon Lecie.
She glanced up into her husband’s enthralling brown eyes. The sound of it, my husband, made her giddy inside. But there in his eyes, she saw a deep, exhilarating love for her.
He scooped her up in his arms, sweeping her off her feet. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“For what?” She giggled.
He carried her past her parents, whose faces were filled with joy. On past Camille and Julian, Tasha and Andre, and the kids. Everyone had beaming smiles. “Say goodbye,” he said, as they headed inside the house.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice full of happiness.
He carried her through the house and out the open front door. When he stopped at the limo waiting in the driveway, he said, “Our honeymoon.” He gave her a scandalous grin, then winked, saying, “We’ve got to practice.”
She asked in an almost serious tone, “What are we practicing for?”
“Making grandbabies!”