Page 63 of Daddy's Pride
Pippa covers her eyes with her hand and scans the crowd until she sees Dad. “How much short?”
“About fifty quid.”
She makes a show of pulling a roll of notes out of her bosom and hands it to me. “That should make two grand.”
“Thank you,” Harris says.
Pippa waves her hand. “It’s the least we can do.” She blows us kisses as she and the band exit the stage.
“Before you go, there’s one more thing,” I say into the microphone.
Harris stares at me, eyebrows raised.
“One more person I have to thank.” I turn to him and hold his hand.
His cheeks go red.
“A few months ago, I’d pretty much given up on my dream of ever getting this place open. Then fate brought this amazing man to me, and everything changed. None of us would be here if it hadn’t been for Harris’s enthusiasm, excitement, and vision for this project. Or without his marketing know-how.”
Harris dips his chin and bites his lip. “You’re embarrassing me,” he whispers.
“But you’ve done more than that.” I sink to one knee.
The crowd gasps.
“You’ve made me the happiest man alive. I love you, Harris. Will you marry me?”
His jaw drops. It feels like everyone is collectively holding their breaths. My heart thunders as I wait for him to answer. Was it stupid of me to ask him so publicly? Fuck. I should have waited.
“Well, don’t keep us all in suspense, honey. Are you going to marry him or not?” Pippa asks. “If you don’t, I might just have to snatch him up and run away with him.”
Everyone laughs.
Harris covers his face, drags in a huge breath, and then lowers his hands. “Yes.”
“Louder. The people at the front didn’t hear,” Pippa says.
Harris pulls my hand toward him and speaks into the microphone. “Yes!”
Applause thunders and echoes across the field, drowning out everything. I stand, switch the microphone off, scoop him into my arms, spin him around, and kiss him.
“I love you, boy,” I whisper.
“I love you too, Daddy.”
* * *
It’s dark by the time we’re alone. My and Harris’s parents stayed for dinner. You’d think they’d known each other their whole lives. They get along so well. Nigel was here too. A few weeks after Harris moved in with me, Nigel visited to apologize for his awful behaviour. Things have been better between them since.
Now they’re all gone. The property is quiet, except for decorations and leaves rustling in the breeze.
“That was epic.” Harris wraps his arms around me and kisses me.
“But tiring.”
“Yes, it was tiring.” He rests his cheek on my shoulder.
“I need to apologize.”