Page 204 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

“How are you feeling,” Coach Ehren asked as we watched Corey go through the final combination of the course.

“Jealous that they look that great together,” I teased.

“It’s not forever.”

He squeezed my shoulder and slipped through the fence rail, stepping into the ring to work with Corey and Atlas.

After days of agonizing, I had finally decided not to ride again until after the baby was born. Plenty of women did it, and my heart knew Atlas would take care of me. But for once, I wasn’t going to let my fearless attitude take the lead.

I would never forgive myself if something happened.

Still, I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to take a back seat and watch someone else ride Atlas, even when I knew it was the right choice.

“So, this is what you do?”

I grinned at Yakov Rostov, Goran’s father, as he slowly shuffled over from the picnic table.

Goran had told me what my father did when Yakov got sick, and it still made me nauseous that he could be so callous with someone who had been unshakably loyal.

It had taken some convincing—and my refusal to take no for an answer—but Yakov had agreed to move in with us once the addition was complete.

“It is. What do you think?”

He leaned heavily on his cane but stood stubbornly straight as he watched Atlas fly over a jump.

“It suits you.” He slowly turned his head toward me. “You were always fearless. You had all the guards terrified about where they were going to find you or what you would be doing.” He chuckled.

“I didn’t know that.”

He nodded. “You tried to jump off the balcony into the pool when you were seven. Everyone was afraid they would be blamed, then shot, for not keeping you safe.”

My cheeks heated with a blush.

“I was a terror.”

Yakov laughed hard.

“A little. But you were so cute. Those big blue eyes and blonde hair whipping out behind you as you ran full speed into the next adventure. You had everyone wrapped around your finger.”

“Hopefully this little one takes after Goran then,” I said, rubbing my small bump.

“Yes,” he said, his voice heavy with sadness. “Goran had to grow up too fast. I don’t remember him ever being much of a child. I wish that I’d noticed it sooner. I regret working so much. I missed many birthdays…holidays. I only got to see one of his football games.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“You’ll be part of all those things now, with your grandchild.”

“Thank you.” His voice cracked. “For loving my boy. He’s a good son, and you make him so happy. I couldn’t have wished for anyone better for Goran than you, Kaylani.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I didn’t dare look up at him, or it would turn into full-on waterworks.

“Thank you for raising such an incredible man.”

We stood there in silence, listening to the wind and the distant sounds of the arena, until the crunch of tires on gravel drew our attention. A shiny black limo rolled to a stop.

“My mom is here. Are you ready?”

“I’m only coming for the food.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “I’ll let you and your mother handle the wedding stuff.”