pressing through his lashes. My heart breaks, and I press my lips to his. “I’m sorry this is so hard. I’m sure he’ll . . .”
“Come around?” Jake finishes. “But what if he doesn’t?”
Jake and I both know I could never walk away from Dad. I’m all he has. And I can’t even contemplate the other alternative.
“He will,” I say. I try to be adamant, but my words quaver.
Jake strokes my hand, his head bowed, wet lashes curling gently against his cheek. So warm, so close. But there’s something between us now. The beginnings of a wall, and I don’t know how to tear it down.
“I don’t want you to have to choose between me and your dad, Elle. We have enough battles to fight.” There’s something strange in his tone. Something that sounds like surrender.
But that can’t be right. Jake’s a fighter.
“There’s room in my life for both of you, and if the Throne Room’s right, I won’t have to choose.”
Jake goes pale, his hands clammy against mine. He pulls them away and wipes them on his pants. There are mere inches between us, but fear put them there. And I hate fear. It’s my hatred that fights back.
“You have my engagement ring next door, hand-delivered to you by the Throne Room of God Himself.” My voice is all high and squeaky. But I need him to hear me. I need him to fight the fear. “Why are we even talking about this?”
Jake licks his lips. “Because your dad—”
“That’s not it. It can’t be. You knew my dad had issues with God. You’ve known for half a year, Jake.” My throat is tight, sucking on the emotion of the moment. “You never said it was a deal breaker.”
Something shifts then. I feel it in my chest, in the fear dissolving around us. Jake leans across the seat, conviction in the russet flames that burn deep in his eyes. Their fire tugs at my skin, at my heart, pulling me closer, reducing the distance between us. He’s fighting it.
“There is no deal breaker, Elle. One day I will ask you to marry me whether your dad likes it or not.”
I lean my forehead against his, relieved. “Then why all the angst?”
I breathe him in. He smells like he always does, like coffee laced with sugar. Like adventure. Like safety.
Like the rest of my life.
I inhale it all.
And then an elephant lands on the roof of the car.
5
Brielle
I think your dad’s going to eat my car.”
Jake’s face has lost all of its color. He’s looking over my shoulder and out the passenger-side window.
“It’s not your car he’s glaring at,” I say.
The pounding stops, but Dad is just standing there, his face all irritation and bristling whiskers. He’s . . . off. Something’s wrong with him. Against the yellow house a shimmer of red catches my attention. Olivia Holt drops gracefully down our porch steps. Her long legs bare, the hint of khaki shorts peeking out beneath her silky red blouse.
“If you’re done with my daughter,” Dad says, “could you move this piece of junk?”
I can do nothing but stare gape-mouthed. Dad’s always been protective, always been uncomfortable around Jake, but this isn’t like him. Dad can be a roughneck, but he’s not rude. At least not usually. It’s hard to imagine him treating anyone this way, especially someone I care about. Especially Jake.
“What?” Dad asks. “I’m just trying to back my truck out here.”
“See. Hate,” Jake whispers.
“Something’s wrong with him,” I say, my eyes falling on Olivia once again. I’m straining, trying to figure out how she messed Dad up so badly in two short hours. “I’d better go.”
“Yeah. I’ll call you later,” Jake says, his face a mess of sad and awkward. I want to fix it, make him feel better, but I can’t do anything with Dad’s fist hovering over the car. “You better go. He’s not getting any happier.”
No, he’s not.
I step from the car with every intention of throwing a massive tantrum, but as Jake backs down the driveway, I catch sight of his face. His lips are moving furiously. He’s praying. For me. For Dad. Probably for himself a little too.
So instead of rising to the occasion, I hook my finger through the halo on my wrist and say a silent prayer myself. I can’t think of anything nice to say to Dad, so like a good girl I won’t say anything at all. But when I try to step past him, I catch a whiff