I was still in the ballroom when Lincoln had obviously calmed down enough to check out the floral arrangements. He was a ball of frenetic energy as he jogged in, and his gaze frantically swept the room, then he went absolutely still. I couldn’t tell from his facial expression what he thought, but the fact that Monroe was smiling eased my nerves. And then Lincoln started crying. Not hard, but tears welled up and spilled over. He pressed his hand to his mouth, and there was a hiccup of a sob, then he gave a tiny noise that was part squeal, part gasp.
I couldn’t contain my grin.
“This is…West…I….it’s just….perfect.” The last word was said with a kind of reverence I rarely heard, and my heart just swelled. Lincoln walked over to the cake, and his hand shook as he gently touched one of the ca
