Page 129 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

45

RHETT

While Clementine disappeared into the kitchen to oversee the dessert service, I found myself scanning the dining room for her father. There was something I needed to do, something that felt important after everything that had happened tonight.

I knew how risky it was to put my drama out there. There were plenty of journalists in the crowd. Some were there to do write-ups about the soup kitchen and others were there to fluff up the politicians and local celebrities looking for some good press.

What I just did was definitely going to make headlines. I basically just claimed his daughter. I knew he was one of the reasons she didn’t want anything to do with me. My reputation tainting Desman’s soup kitchen project. I needed to clear the air.

I found Desman near the front of the room, talking quietly with one of the board members about future fundraising initiatives. When he saw me approaching, he excused himself from the conversation.

“Hell of a speech up there,” he said with a knowing smile. “Though I have to admit, it wasn’t exactly what I expected when I asked you to thank the team.”

“About that,” I said, suddenly feeling like a teenager asking permission to take someone’s daughter to prom. “I was hoping we could talk privately for a moment.”

His expression grew more serious, almost resigned. He gestured toward a quieter corner of the room. “Of course.”

We walked over to a spot near the windows, away from the guests coming in to sit down.

“Desman,” I started, then stopped, realizing I had no idea how to do this properly. “I need you to know that my intentions toward your daughter are completely honorable.”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement creeping into his expression. “Go on.”

“I love her,” I said, the words feeling both foreign and absolutely right coming out of my mouth. “I want to cherish and love her until the end of my days. And I will spend all those days proving that I’m not the man I was when this tour started. And I’m not my family.”

Desman studied my face for a long moment. “And what kind of man are you now?”

“The kind who recognizes that your daughter is a force to be reckoned with,” I said without hesitation. “The kind who can’t wait to see how far she goes, because I have a feeling she’s going to leave me in her dust.”

That earned me a genuine smile. “She is pretty remarkable, isn’t she?”

“She’s extraordinary,” I said. “She saved my ass tonight, literally and figuratively. But more than that, she’s made me want to be better. Not just as a chef, but as a man.”

“And the media attention? The complications with your family background?”

I appreciated that he was asking the hard questions. “I can’t promise there won’t be challenges. My past isn’t something I can erase, and there will probably always be people who want to use it against me. But I can promise that I’ll never let it hurt her again. I’ll protect her from all of that as much as I’m able.”

Desman nodded slowly. “She’s a grown woman who makes her own choices. But for what it’s worth, you have my blessing.”

Relief flooded through me. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t make me regret it,” he added with a pointed look.

“I won’t,” I said. “I promise.”

“And your family? Do I need to be worried about my daughter’s safety?”

I laughed. “I know their reputation, and yeah, some of them get up to no good, but I promise, my family would never hurt her. I know what the rumors are and I’m not at liberty to discuss a lot of the details, but you have my word the rumors are bullshit. Back in the day, they were true. Not so much anymore. And I’ve never had anything to do with it. Yes, I still talk to my family, but they know better than to bring the business around me. We have family gatherings and I promise they’re safe. The few that met Clem in Chicago loved her.”

Desman studied my face for a moment. I could see him weighing my words. I knew how this must look to him, his daughter getting involved with someone whose family name had been in the papers for all the wrong reasons over the last fifty years. Dating a man whose father was in prison.

“I appreciate your honesty,” he said finally. “And I can see that you care about her. That’s what matters to me.”

“I do. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Then welcome to the family, son. Just remember, she’s tougher than both of us put together. Don’t underestimate her.”

I grinned. “I learned that lesson tonight.”