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What I hadn’t expected was my little girl storming that house with a level of determination I’d never seen before as I’d settled in to wait it all out. Just as my heart was about to stop and my feet were carrying me forward with nothing but thoughts of getting her out before the trailer blew and took her right along with it, my little girl emerged from the shithole.
Now, she’ll be forever free of the threat of that fucker coming anywhere near her.
And I’d accept any sentence in any jail just knowing that my little girl is safe and protected and surrounded by a love that reminds me of my Melany’s early days.
Finland Montgomery is good for my daughter. He looks after her, cares about her.
Loves her.
But that doesn’t mean I have to like what I see, even if I know it to be true.
“Hey, Poppa Bear.”Speak of the devil.I throw back the contents of the glass I’ve been nursing as he continues to speak without my acknowledgement. “So, I love your daughter.”
Gritting my jaw and pulling in a deep breath to keep my fists on the table instead of planting in the kid’s face—again—I remain stiff as I catch the bartender’s gaze with a lift of a finger to signal for another drink.
Because if Fin’s tone is any indication of what he’s really after, then I’m going to need a shit ton of alcohol.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Fine,” Fin concedes and settles into the stool next to me as if he’d been invited. “So, about the second thing I said.”
A growl is the response he gets when the bartender slides a glass down the length of the bar and it smacks against my waiting palm. “I know this. It’s why you still have your head attached.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about this one?” I catch him tap his inked pointer finger to his temple in my periphery and shake my head on a sigh.
“Spit it out, kid.”
It takes a long tense moment of the man flexing his jaw like the words are getting stuck in his throat and me slowly sipping my fresh drink, if only just to drag out his torture even more.
A father knows things.
Things that happen when people fall for each other.
That and Cedar beat him to the punch two days before she left on her girl’s trip. It was a quick comment she threw out, more to herself than the room while she tossed her laundry into the machine in my house because the studio above her shop doesn’t have personal washing machines. It’s something my princess has done since she moved out—come over on Sunday with an arm full of shit to wash and a dire need for caffeine before someone loses their head.
She wants them to move in together. But only if he asks her.
I’d only shrugged when she looked up from the mound of clothes in her hands with those big blue eyes that got her out of so much trouble as a kid. So soulful. So innocent.
And then I made her promise to still come over and do her laundry every Sunday, whether she did or didn’t.
Fin clears his throat and nods to himself, like he’s psyching himself up before he speaks, and reaches over my forearm to pluck the tumbler right from my grip.
This mother—
Throwing the drink back like a shot, he hisses and slams the glass back against the bar before looking me dead in the eye.
“I’m moving her in with me, Jax, and while I don’t give a shit if you approve or not, I know my girl does.”
Hm.
“Moving her in, huh?” I work my jaw and rap my knuckles on the bar top for the bartender’s attention. “Did you try asking herthat, kid?”
“Uh, well—”
“Not up to me,” I cut off his words and accept the next tumbler the bartender slides my way, a second coming in right on its heels. I lift my arm in time for Fin to catch the glass with a furrowed brow and a tick to his jaw.
“Well, no shit, but—” He fiddles with the glass for a moment before tossing the drink back again and letting loose a loud hissing exhale. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The tumbler smacks against the bar with a crack, and Fin is spinning away with a grin. “Make sure you hide the bat.”
