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How am I going to tell Dad about this? I thought.
I didn’t have an answer, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
After Bowen and I cleaned up, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I yawned as I burrowed under the covers, snuggling into Bowen’s side. He looped an arm around my shoulder, tucking me close against him.
Resting my cheek on his chest, my eyes slipped closed at the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Bowen twisted one of my curls around his fingers and turned his head, brushing a kiss to my temple.
“How do you want to handle this?” he asked, idly trailing his fingertips down my bare back.
I sighed.
“I don’t know. I’m working on it.”
Bowen nodded. He hooked his hand behind my knee and hauled my body on top of him, draping me over his chest.
“Try to get some sleep,” he said, wrapping his arms tight around me. “I’ll wake you in a few hours. Then you can get back to your room before Grady notices you’re missing.”
I tilted my chin up and kissed his jawline with a quick peck of appreciation. Poor Bowen—caught between the woman he loved and the boss he worked for. He must hate the idea of sneaking around behind my dad’s back like this.
Part of me selfishly wanted to keep it private, just the two of us. Only for a little while. There were bound to be comments in town from people, claiming the boss’s daughter could do better than a foreman.
I couldn’t bear to make Bowen suffer for too long though. It was better to come clean and let Grady and Birdie know that we were together. Dad would hate it—I could see that coming a mile away. He would simply have to get used to it. I loved Bowen. Nothing and no one could change my mind about that.
It seemed as if I’d barely drifted off to sleep when a thunderous bang echoed through Bowen’s cabin. In an instant, he was on his feet, zipping up his jeans and grabbing the shotgun tucked into his closet.
“Stay there,” Bowen said.
The heavy tread of footsteps in the hallway marched closer. Just as Bowen yanked the bedroom door open, the unmistakable figure of my father came into view.
My stomach dropped.
“Avery’s gone,” he said. “I’ve searched the house, and there’s no sign—”
Dad broke off at the sight of me in Bowen’s bed, clutching the sheets. My face must have been cherry-red with shame.
His mouth snapped shut. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
The unbearable silence felt like it stretched for eternity.
Then Dad jabbed a finger at Bowen.
“Outside. Now.”
“Dad, wait,” I fumbled to stand and keep myself covered at the same time. “Whatever you have to say to him, you can say to me, too.”
“It’s okay, Avery,” Bowen said, propping his shotgun in the corner by the door. “Get dressed first.”
I sank down on the edge of the bed as I watched Dad and Bowen walk out. My heart squeezed at Bowen’s strong, square shoulders, head held high, despite the fact that he was shirtless and barefoot. He was heading into the fight of his life with my father, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.
The front door closed. A moment later, I heard Dad’s voice.
“How long have you been putting your hands on my daughter?”
“Sir, I—”
“Answer the goddamn question.”
Bowen’s response was too indistinct for me to make out. I started searching for my clothes, snatching them off the floor and pulling them on as fast as I could.
