Page 59 of Restored By You

Why the fuck did he say it like that?

My hackles rise, but I keep my voice even, my face as neutral as I can. “Rhett Montgomery.” I offer a hand. “You’ve got a hell of a daughter, Mr. Winton. She’s done incredible work on this place.”

He doesn’t shake my hand. He briefly glances at it with the distaste of a man who stepped in a cowpie. I drop my hand.

“I know exactly what my daughter’s been doing,” he says. “And with whom.” His eyes cut to Shea, then back to me, and there’s nothing warm anywhere in them. “You’ve been a busy man, Mr. Montgomery. My renovation up the mountain. My daughter. My property here.” A thin, humorless smile. “That’s a great deal of Winton business you’ve gotten yourself into for a small-town handyman.”

The unspoken threat lands exactly how and where he means it to.

Shea steps in front of me. “Stop it, now,” she hisses. “This is my house, my money that went into this. Who I spend my time with is none of your business.”

Her father huffs, gaze cutting to his daughter. “Isn’t it, though? When you stay at my resort all expenses paid, I do believe, it is my business, young lady.”

“That’s enough.” Shea’s voice cracks like a whip.

I take a step forward. “Sir, with respect, you’ve got it all wrong. I took that resort contract months before I ever met Shea. Levi and I earned that job on our own. I’d never—”

“I didn’t ask you to speak,” Daniel spits, then turns to his daughter.

Something in my chest goes white-hot. I open my mouth—

“Rhett.” Shea’s hand is on my arm.

I look down at her, and her face has changed. Pale and desperate, her eyes pleading. She doesn’t want me to fight for her, I realize. Not here. Not against her father.

“Please,” she says. “You should go. Let me handle this.”

I glare at her father standing smug on the porch steps. “No. I’m not leaving you.”

“Please.” Her fingers dig into my arm, and her voice drops even lower, cracking at the edges. “You being here makes it worse. You don’t know him, Rhett. I do. Please. For me. Go. I’ll call you later.”

Every instinct I have is screaming to plant my boots and not move an inch, to stand between her and that cold bastard in the expensive coat. But she’s asking, begging me, and I realize the hardest goddamn thing I can do for her right now is the thing I want to do the least.

Leave.

“All right,” I say. I cup her jaw, just once, my thumb brushing her cheek. I ignore Daniel Winton entirely as I lean in and press my forehead to hers. “You call me and I’m here. I don’t care what he says. You understand?”

She nods against me as a tear spills free.

I kiss her cheek and take a step back. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done—turning my back on her. I walk to my truck while her father watches me with a satisfaction I’d love nothing more than to knock clean off his smug face.

Beyond him, I catch Tyler’s eye for a half second. I give him a nod, trying to reassure him, too, that everything is going to work out. But he looks away.

Yeah. Me, too, kid.

I climb in my truck, start the engine, and I drive away, leaving the woman I love to face down the one man in the world I can’t restore for her.

I make it exactly to the stop sign at the end of the street before I pull over, put it in park, and sit here gripping the steering wheel, waiting for her phone call.

Twenty-One.

Shea

My father refused to speak another word after Rhett left, until Michelle suggested a family dinner this evening was the best solution. How? Not a clue. My father doesn’t talk about his ‘feelings,’ he doesn’t try to resolve an issue unless it’s business related. No, Daniel Winton prefers to yell, stomp his feet, then storm off and act like nothing ever happened if he for some reason, can’t get his way.

And that’s not for lack of him trying, of course.

Hence the only reason I agreed to dinner after the way he spoke to Rhett. What the heck was he thinking, coming here and treating him like that? On a first impression, too. Even for my father, that was out of character.