Hard Fall (Trophy Boyfriends #2) - Sara Ney Page 0,79
me the same thing: they didn’t go to see you because they were afraid of the repercussions.”
Ah, now I see. Fiona and Lucian are afraid of our father and were scared he would somehow punish them for leaving the stadium during the game since that is where they work. They were afraid to come see their little sister for fear of the consequences.
I raise my chin. “Work before family—how sad.”
I will never raise my children like that.
Never.
“I’m sorry for that.” His words are quiet and barely audible.
“Sorry, what was that Westbrooke? I couldn’t hear you from over here,” Buzz bellows, man of the manor house and lord of his castle—thoroughly enjoying my father’s obvious discomfort. “Speak up, man.”
I barely stifle a laugh at the expression on my father’s face; I can’t say I’ve ever seen him this irritated before, and his jaw visibly clenches.
“I said I’m sorry we weren’t there when you needed us.”
Things I could say that would not be helpful in this situation:
I wasn’t expecting you to be there.
There is a first time for everything.
I’m being well taken care of by someone else, if you catch my drift.
This is the moment Buzz rises from his spot in the corner, smooths out the terrycloth towel and tightens the knot at his waist. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
He walks the few feet to where I sit, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.
We watch him go.
“I thought he’d never leave.” Dad exhales with relief. “Dear lord, is he always like that?”
I laugh. “Only when he’s not sleeping.”
Thomas Westbrooke quizzically surveys the door where Buzz departed, puzzled. “I wouldn’t have expected this from him.”
No, he wouldn’t have. Neither would anyone else, if I had to guess. People have been stereotyping him his entire life, the same as they’ve been stereotyping me, and I’m tickled I finally gave him a chance.
And now my father is seeing his true colors too. Trace Wallace is a man of integrity—he is not just a pretty face. Not just an incredible athlete. Not just a savvy business mind.
He is the whole package and will make one heck of a romantic partner.
For me.
“So you really like this man.”
“We haven’t known each other long, but yes, I like him a lot. He’s been good for me and his family is incredible.”
Dad nods. “His brother is Tripp Wallace—plays for the Sparks. And his sister is an agent.”
“She is?” I didn’t know that.
“True Wallace, sports agent at MSA.”
My brow furrows. “What did you do, run background checks on everyone?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“I want to know the man who’s dating my daughter.”
“But…didn’t you know all this before, when you recruited him?”
“This is different. This is personal.”
Well.
Well, well, well. I lean back in my chair and study my father anew. Is he turning over a new leaf? Is he morphing into an actual living breathing DAD?
Like one who waits up at night for his daughter to come home to make sure she’s safe? One who has her call when she makes it home after a long date?
Slow your roll, Hollis—baby steps. All he’s doing is background checks on Buzz’s entire family, no big deal.
But it is a big deal, because he’s never done that before. And he’s showing up at Buzz’s house rather than calling—another step in the right direction. Plus, he apologized.
Apologized!
I’ve never in my life heard my father say I’m sorry to anyone, let alone one of his children. Thomas Westbrooke can do no wrong, therefore never has anything to apologize for.
“I appreciate you coming by.” I’m not sure what else to say; showing emotion with my parents feels strange. With others, I’m huggy, affectionate and expressive. With my mother and father? Not so much.
“Coming by—sounds like you’re living here.”
“Ha ha, no. Like I said, we haven’t known each other long, but being here is really nice.” Like home, actually, but perhaps that’s the company I’m keeping.
I feel whole.
Since my father is already standing, he shuffles his feet uneasily, making eyes toward the exit; I stand and put my arms around him for an embrace.
We’re like two strangers forced to touch. So awkward.
Fortunately, it’s over in a flash. “Tell Fi and Luc I say hi and I love them.”
I do—I love my brother and sister, as misguided as they are, ruled by the almighty dollar and our dad. Corporate greed. Fear.
Telling them I love them is easier than saying it to my father in this moment and I know he’s struggling to say it too. It just isn’t natural.