“Then I’ll grab lunch and eat it in the truck. Just text me when you’re going to leave soon.”
“Alright.” I leaned over the middle seat and kissed him.
His hand cupped my cheek, and he kissed me hard, like he didn’t want me to forget what we had in case my father hated him as much as Damien did. Heath had never been insecure, never been anything but potently confident, but now he wasn’t quite himself.
I pulled back and licked my lips. “Heath, you think I’m going to go anywhere after you gave me that gorgeous ring?”
“You could find another guy to buy you one just like it.”
I’d meant to make a lighthearted joke, but it didn’t land. “Nothing is going to change. I promise.”
He struggled to believe me, and he still wore a wary gaze.
“Standing up to my brother doesn’t prove my credibility?”
He stared at me with an unreadable gaze, like he was in a poker match and didn’t want to reveal his cards. “Your brother is not your father. It’s a very different relationship. No daughter wants to marry a man her father doesn’t approve of. So…I’m not sure what will happen once you tell him.”
My hand moved to his. “We’re spending our lives together, Heath. Period.” I stared at him with my fiery expression, telling him that I had my mind made up, that my choice was as clear as a message written in black ink on white paper.
He brought my hand to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles. “Go.”
I couldn’t convince him further. He would just have to wait and see. “Love you.” I leaned over and kissed him again before I got out of the truck.
“Love you too.” His deep voice followed me before I shut the door.
I walked into the house without looking back, chatting briefly with Patricia before I entered the dining room.
My father was old-fashioned, so he still got dressed up, even for a casual lunch. He wore a sweater-vest over a collared shirt along with a sport coat. All he needed was a pocket watch, and he would look like a historical figure plucked out of the 1920s.
The second he saw me, his eyes lit up, just the way they used to when he looked at my mother. “Sweetheart, you look beautiful.” He got to his feet and kissed me on the cheek.
“Thanks, Dad. You look pretty cute in that outfit.” I shed my coat and placed it over the back of the chair before I sat down.
He looked down at his sleeves. “Patricia picked it out for me. It’s thick and stuffy, can barely move my arms, but she makes my meals so…”
“She has great taste.”
Patricia came in a moment later and brought cappuccinos along with our lunch. Then she left us alone to talk.
We made small talk, discussing my ankle, Damien’s wedding date, and the weather.
“When do you think you can go back to the ballet?” he asked.
The theatre always took a winter break during January, so it wouldn’t be until February, assuming I could perform again. “Sometime around Valentine’s Day. I’ve been continuing physical therapy, and I feel like I’m getting stronger every day. This is the first time I’ve been able to wear heels.”
“I was never worried about you making a full recovery,” he said before he sipped his coffee. “You’re such a driven person.”
“Well…thanks.” He sounded like Heath.
“So, Christmas will be exciting this year, with a new member of our family.”
“Yeah…” I would love it if there were two new members. “You know, Dad…there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You can tell me anything.” He waved me forward. “Go ahead. Speak your mind.” He slid his spoon into the bowl of soup then dragged the bottom across the edge of the dish before he placed it in his mouth. It was chicken noodle, to make our stomachs warm on this cold day.
I couldn’t be as candid as he encouraged me to, as much as I would like to be. It was a delicate situation, and now that the moment was upon us, I was so nervous. My heart was racing like I was on the treadmill…or having sex with Heath. “You remember how I told you I was seeing someone?”
He continued to eat, but he did pause for a second to look at me. “Yes. Damien didn’t care for him.”
“Yes.”
Now, he stirred his soup without eating, interested in what I