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When I worked weekends, which was often, I could typically be found at Taughannock Falls and not here. “I wanted to catch you. To talk.”
He was behind his desk buried in paperwork. And though he usually looked pretty fit—my dad had been a runner his whole life—today he seemed a bit. . . frailer than usual.
I sat. “I want to talk to you about the job. And Lucas.”
Taking a deep breath, he put down the papers in front of him and sat back.
“The other night you didn’t want anything to do with either topic at dinner,” he said.
Which was true.
“You know how much Mom hates work talk.”
“I do. But you refused to talk about Lucas, either, and she’s worried.”
“She didn’t say anything to me about being worried.”
He shrugged. “She did to me. I don’t know if she thinks he’s the best choice for you.”
This was the point I typically flew off the handle. Said something like, “Does she actually think that, or did you tell her to think that?” But neither were productive questions, and I was trying to get a grip on my interactions with my father. So instead, I very calmly said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Charlee, be honest with yourself. Do you think Lucas Warner is a good fit for you?”
The man had flaws.
He was stubborn. Colder than I’d like, especially now. He barely believed in relationships, probably having to do with being left by his mother.
But yet. . .
He was domineering in the bedroom. Had the confidence to carry it off, and would never ever cause me pain. Or push limits I couldn’t accept. Confident. Witty. Sexy as hell. Ambitious. And a good singer to boot.
Was he the right man for me?
Damned if it mattered. I was head over heels in love with him.
“Clearly, you don’t think so.”
My father frowned. “If I’m being honest? No. I don’t.”
“Alright, Dad, let’s do this. Right now. Tell me why. And be honest.”
I tried to slow my heart rate. Not freak out. But this was my life, and it shouldn’t matter what he thought. Yet his opinion had always held more weight with me than I wanted it to.
“He owns a tattoo studio.”
I laughed aloud at that. “Seriously? That’s an actual reason? I’d think you would like the fact that the man is an entrepreneur. He used money he invested from his time in the military to open that shop. What could possibly be wrong with that?”
No response.
“If it was a flower shop? Would that be okay with you?”
When he smiled at that, I couldn’t help doing the same. The thought of Lucas owning a flower shop. . .
“I’ve been making some inquiries,” he said finally. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but since you’re pushing.”
So much for staying calm. “What kind of inquiries?”
“From friends of mine. Former military.”
