Phil looked down on me, his eyes shining, pupils expanding. “Because I love your daughter very much. She’s my whole life, and I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t like me. I don’t want her to be unhappy, and I know how much her family means to her.”
Well, if that’s not the way to a father’s crusty old heart, I’m not sure one exists.
“No worries, son,” Da said gruffly. “I can see how happy ye make her. And it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her so carefree.”
Phil’s shining eyes turned to my da. “She’s the most amazin’ person I’ve ever met.”
Da smiled. “Tha’ she is. So, how’d you two meet? Crossed paths while mowin’ th’ yard?”
“We met on my eighteenth birthday,” I piped. “NOLA’s Junk had just finished their set, and Phil and X—that’s the bassist—came up and started chatting with us.”
“Kenna was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She completely stole my heart when I heard her laugh, and her smile lit up my whole world.”
Way to lay it on thick, Deveraux, I thought dryly.
“Lili, Alys, and I ended up getting kicked out when they went to sign their record deal.” I went on with the practical part of the story. “We didn’t see each other again for about a year, and that was at the Twisted Festivus Tour five years ago.”
“We had just finished that show, and I saw her in the crowd,” said Phil, his eyes swinging back on me. “I had spent the whole year lookin’ for her and only found her again when we were leavin’ on our first European tour.”
“And then four weeks ago, the drummer—Flipper—came into the clinic. He had injured his shoulder and needed to be well for their final show at the stadium, so I fixed him, and he recognized me. He invited me and Alys and Lili to the party at Phil’s place after the concert.”
“We’ve been together ever since,” Phil said, his face going full-blown Lady Killer.
Da threw me a shrewd look. “Tha’ song…it’s aboot ye, isn’t it?”
“‘Louisiana Baby’?” I asked.
“It is, sir. Actually, many of our songs are about her in some way, not that the guys know it though. I think Jason—he’s the guitarist—would have a heart attack if he ever found out that most of our songs are based on my undyin’ devotion to a girl I once met at a gig.”
Dorothy came out, carrying a single plate of ribs, followed by the cook carrying the rest of our order.
“I gotta—I had a lot of iced tea,” Phil said, standing up, as his plate was set down. Kissing the top of my head, he told me softly, “I’ll be right back.”
When he disappeared into the restroom, Da leaned across the table and whispered, “Wha’ ha’e ye done t’ tha’ puir lad?”
“Nothing he hasn’t done to me,” I retorted. Then, I turned bright red because that could be taken several different ways.
Da caught on to my train of thought. “Kenna!”
“What?” I snapped, blushing harder.
“Damn. He’s got it bad fer ye. Are ye sure yer up fer this?”
“I don’t have a choice, Da. It’s only ever been him.”
Da nodded in understanding. “He’s why ye never really dated—after that Jaime fellow, that is.”
“I suppose so.”
Da cleared his throat and sat back as Phil returned and plopped down next to me once more. Grabbing a rib, Phil began tearing into his food.
“So, famous musician and all tha’, I suppose ye’ve done yer fair share of drugs and drinkin’?” Da casually asked.
“I’ve tried some stuff in the past, sir. I’m not too keen on it. I need to have a straight head to write and perform.”
“So, ye don’t do drugs?”
“Just weed, Da,” I supplied, not wanting to put Phil on the spot.
“Weed ain’t a drug. It’s a weed.”
“No, sir, I don’t do drugs. And I don’t really drink either. My mother died of alcoholism, and from what I remember, she was a mean drunk. I wouldn’t want to put my loved ones through somethin’ like that.”
Da’s eyes went wide, and he stared at Phil for a moment. “Ye’re that boy.”
Phil’s eyebrows reached for the sky. “Sir?”
“The Christmas when Laurie took Kenna to her gran’s. Ye’re that little man who followed her around. Laurie told me all about ye, how ye just fell head o’er heels fer Kenna and called her yer—”
“Baby Girl,” finished Phil, his smile bright and blinding. “Yes, sir. To this day, that’s my favorite Christmas. I never forgot that little girl,