Her Rock Star Friends, page 14
I’m forever grateful for that.
Is it a little weird that my best friend is bedding my daughter?
Hell, yeah.
There are things I don’t like to think about, and that’s one of them. So it’s especially strange that my daughter is going to marry him, with Cole, Jersey, and Rory standing in as groomsmen.
So I’m standing here in my tux waiting for my daughter to come out of the dressing room so I can escort her down the aisle.
The door opens, and I stare. She always was beautiful, but today she takes my breath away.
The wedding dress is an Empire waist because it is the best waistline to minimize a pregnancy. Yep. My little girl is going to be a mom. I couldn’t be prouder.
Color me shocked when I found out all it takes now is a sample of the mother’s blood and a DNA sample from the potential fathers to determine who to call papa. Again, by agreement, they all decided she should marry the baby daddy though that’s hardly necessary in California to protect the rights of the child. Holmes said it had to do with karma, which absolutely made no sense to me, but the rest of the guys ate up his words, so what am I to say?
“You ready?” she said with a big smile.
“Yes.”
“Good. Because there are three more after this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We figure each time I get pregnant I’ll divorce the last one and marry the next. By the time I’m done, I’ll call all of them husband with good reason.”
“That’s, that’s—”
“Genius,” she smiled. “Instead of “My Three Sons” we’ll have “My Four Husbands.”
“You’re not seriously thinking—”
She laughed. “Of course not. Well, almost. Cole likes the idea of a reality show.”
“He would.”
“The ratings would be huge. A producer called me about the concept already.”
I groaned. Though I suppose I share in the fault since I made a big show of accepting all four men, especially in that touching scene in the restaurant.
“Dad, relax. Poly relationships are all the rage now. Have you looked at our client list lately? Being seen as the hip PR company has given us a big boost, even in New York.”
I noticed. I’m not a stupid man, though I feel behind the times. Still, I’m not willing to concede defeat.
“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” I said grumpily.
“Easy. Grandkids,” she said patting my hand.
I looked down the aisle at the four men who own my daughter’s heart, and I wondered only one thing.
How can I get four women?
I mean, I have a lot of time to make up for.
*****
THE END
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Amanda Horton, Her Rock Star Friends
