convey that he was present, even though Dad hadn’t directed the statement at him.
Without saying another word, his father turned away and went into the kitchen.
The least his father could have done was sign something in response, especially since he had grown up signing with his own father. But no, he chose the route to Prickdom instead. Figures.
“I’m sorry,” Bull signed, trying to remain calm.
“Don’t apologize for him.”
Bull kept shaking his head. Ben grabbed his wrist the moment Bull tried to rake his hand through his styled hair. He closed his eyes and took another centering breath. He wanted to walk into that kitchen and demand his father give Ben the respect he deserved.
The hand against his cheek was the soothing balm he needed. Opening his eyes, he stared at Ben, mesmerized by the steadiness in his gaze. Ben cupped his face until Bull’s heartbeat steadied. It was eerie how Ben sensed the moment he calmed, and only then, did he release his hold to sign. “One tiny battle at a time. Okay?”
Bull nodded.
For the next hour, his father kept his distance, barely mumbling a word or grunt in response to Nat’s nervous rambling. The tension loomed in the air when they were in the same room. Bull couldn’t stand it and stepped away, needing a few deep breaths to loosen the tightness in his body. He was ready to charge. But he was going to try to make this work. For Natalie. For Ben. For Mom. For Grandpa. For himself. Because dammit, he wanted that connection with his dad back. With the guy who had taught him how to throw the football like a missile and swing the bat just right to hit it out of the park.
“C’mon, dinner’s ready,” Nat announced. Rather than use the larger dining room table, she set up the small round table for four his father had in the kitchen nook. It was likely her way of reducing the distance between them and bringing them together—a detail that might have sounded great in other households, but the proximity made Bull nervous. To Nat’s credit, she hadn’t been oblivious to tonight’s tension in the air, giving Bull worried glances every time their dad said something with a hint of a jab.
One positive of the smaller round table: it was easier for Ben to read lips during the dinnertime discussion since he could see everyone with little effort. Bull waited until his father sat. Natalie quickly followed, taking a seat to their father’s right. He swallowed heavily as he claimed the chair to his father’s left and pulled out the chair between him and his sister for Ben.
After a few quick words, they filled their plates and ate in silence.
Silverware scraped the last remnants of food when Nat finally spoke. “Gabe’s been helping at the shop more.”
His father glanced up at him, wiping his mouth before speaking. “I thought you were too busy traveling the world with your top secret work.”
Did everything the man say to him have to sound like a reprimand?
A squeeze to his thigh calmed him.
In the last decade, he had had two top secret assignments. Two requests from his government contacts for his expertise in behavioral assessment for a target he had monitored for a solid three years while serving. Two. But—of course—during one of those assignments, Grandpa had been taken to the hospital after a fall and Bull hadn’t been able to hop on a plane at a moment’s notice.
Now, every mission was top secret and he was never home. Ever.
“I do security assessments. The work’s not top secret but I do respect my clients’ privacy.”
“And you put your life at risk for them.”
“He’s no longer doing personal security for his clients, Dad. He’s home more now. We’ve been spending a lot of time at the shop together.” She gave Ben a smile. “All of us.”
That got his father’s attention.
Natalie stood and cleared the table before their dad had a chance to say another word. “I’ve got this,” she said, the moment Bull tried to stand to help. He needed the escape. His experience had heightened his skills at assessing imminent danger.
And every warning flag in his mind was raised.
Natalie returned to the table holding a small cake. A smile instantly pulled at his lips, knowing this was Ben’s way of contributing to tonight’s dinner. It was likely Dad wouldn’t notice or care, but to Bull and Nat, it was Ben’s way of trying to add something special to the evening