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“I make terrible decisions. I don’t seem to be able to read people. I knew Eric didn’t like me for some reason. That he didn’t want me here. I should just . . . I shouldn’t be trusted with anything.”
“Stop,” he said firmly. “First of all, you do not make terrible decisions. Everybody makes mistakes. But sometimes fate works in ways to get you to where you’re meant to be. And you’re meant to be with me.”
She’d never thought that Reuben would talk about fate. It seemed too wishy-washy for him. He liked his facts and figures.
But she understood what he was saying. Had she not hit rock bottom and lost everything, she’d never have come here.
Never would have met him.
“You need to have more faith in yourself.”
She snorted. The one thing she no longer had was faith in herself. And the irony of her name wasn’t lost on her.
“Why did you want to come back here tonight? Was it because you weren’t ready to live with me? Or because you didn’t want to leave your friend?”
“A bit of both, I think. Mostly about Cammie. I think, deep down, I felt like she wasn’t safe.”
“I don’t like that you were in danger. I don’t like that he was obviously making you feel uncomfortable and that you never told me.” There was a stern note in his voice. “But you didn’t know this was going to happen. You cannot take other people’s faults and actions on as your own. You didn’t cause him to snap and slap your friend. Or to put his hands on your neck.” He shuddered.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m okay, Daddy.”
“I’d rather you were amazing than okay, but we’ll get you there.” He gathered a deep breath as though he didn’t want to say what he was about to. “I know I’m not . . . easy.”
She hid a grin. Easy? Nope. That wasn’t a word that anyone would ever use to describe Reuben Jones.
A hurricane, yet he was the calm in the storm.
Icy control, yet with enough fire to set the world aflame.
A bulldozer and a soft place to land.
Reuben was a man of contradictions.
“I’m not sure I want to know what’s going on in your head,” he grumbled.
“You probably don’t.”
“I need you to listen to me. I know I’m not easy. I know I like control. I’m bossy and probably overwhelming.”
“It’s good you know these things about yourself,” she told him solemnly.
“Brat,” he grumbled.
But she could tell he wasn’t upset. It was his fault she was sassy.
“What I’m saying is that I like to make the decisions. But I will try to curb that need for you.”
Confusion filled her. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t like that you think you are incapable of making good decisions. That you take every negative thing as your own failing. We need to build up your self-confidence in your decisions. I do not want you beating yourself up all the time.”
Oh. Now she understood.
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t believe in you.”
Oh. My. God.
That right there was the best thing anyone had ever said to her. Gulping back a sob, she leaned forward and rested her face against his chest.
