Page 14 of The Love Playbook

“You don’t have to?”

“No, I want to. I need you to know as her oldest son that I love her, and I only have the best of intentions at heart. The things Charlotte said . . . I’m not going to deny that I dated a lot over the last couple of years. The divorce from her mother wasn’t easy. It took its toll on all of us, and in hindsight, I was trying to smother my own pain. Because of that, I have regrets. A lot of them.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, his posture stiff. “But when I met your mom, everything changed. She makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time. Hell, maybe ever. She makes me feel like maybe I’m not an awful person, that there’s good in me yet. That my mistakes are just that?mistakes. And because of that, not only can I have a second chance, but I might even deserve one.”

He meets my gaze and the fire in his eyes tells me he’s sincere, that he means every word. And that’s enough for me.

I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it. “I don’t deserve your mother. She’s the most incredible woman andhuman being I’ve ever met, but I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to deserve her love every single day.”

Emotion clogs my throat, making it hard to speak. I swallow, pushing it down. “I appreciate that, and I may not know everything about your past or your divorce, but my mom does, and she still chose you, and that’s enough for me. So, if you’re looking for my blessing, you have it.”

Garry rises to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he clears his throat. “I appreciate that.”

“And as far as Charlotte goes . . .” I trail off, unsure of what to say about it. I’ve known for a while from hanging around Brynn that Charlotte is a spitfire, a woman unafraid of making her mind known; it’s one of the things I like about her, but clearly, there’s more going on with her than meets the eye.

“She’ll come around,” Garry says.

It’s what I said to my mom merely moments ago, but somehow coming from him, it feels fabricated.

I arch a brow like I’m unsure, and he grimaces. “Hopefully. Your mother deserves better than what Charlotte gave her today.”

“I think we both know Charlotte’s reaction wasn’t about my mom,” I say, unsurprised by the urge to defend Lettie. Ever since Jace became glued to Brynn’s side last year, I’ve spent a lot of time with her brunette best friend, much to her chagrin, and I’ve grown a fondness for her I can’t explain. One I cover with sarcasm and humor.

Garry’s eyes round in surprise before he nods. “No, it wasn’t. I suppose you’re right. I just want to give your mother everything. I want this to go well so damn bad.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’ll admit, even I was blindsided by the news you’re getting married. Talking to Charlotte a little more, giving her heads-up things were serious and headed in that direction so she had time to digest this might’ve gone a longway. I understand wanting us to share in your excitement, and I am excited for you, I really am. Whatever my mom wants, I support one hundred percent, but you have to remember she’s your daughter first.” Stepping forward, I slap a hand on his shoulder. “And it seems whatever is going on with Charlotte starts with you.”

He releases a ragged breath and rakes a hand over his jaw. “Damn. You’re a smart young man, you know that? Someday, a girl is going to be lucky to have you.”

I smirk, wondering how he would feel if that girl was his daughter.

“I’ll talk to Charlotte,” I promise.

Garry’s eyes widen. “Yeah?”

I nod.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” I jiggle my keys in my hands as I turn toward the porch stairs. “I’m not doing it for you; I’m doing it for my mother.”

Chapter 5

CHARLOTTE

My windshield wipers squelch as they streak across the glass, whisking away the rain. Above me, the sky is an eerie shade of gray, matching my dark mood as I make the fifteen-minute drive to my mother’s house with only the sound of falling rain to keep me company since Rhonda the Honda’s stereo broke long ago.

I come to a stop at a red light, replaying the dinner with my father over again in my head. I still can’t believe he wants to get married. To say I’m shocked is an understatement, and the fact I have to spend the rest of the weekend with my mother harboring this secret is just fantastic.

When the light turns green, I press the gas, but Rhonda barely moves, releasing a sputtering sound that’s half groan, half gunshot.

My eyes widen as I press harder, and my foot hits the floor. A grinding sound fills the inside of the car and there is zero forward movement.

“No,” I moan, putting the car in park. I turn the ignition off then back on again as if I can reset the car to its original factory settings, but no matter how much I coax it, or how many times I press on the gas and turn the keys in the ignition, the response is the same.

As if everything with my father wasn’t enough . . .

Cursing, I put my hazards on while I contemplate trying to push the car to safety, but I’m no dummy. My petite frame is no match for this hunk of metal, and I could call my father for help, but I refuse to do so. The last thing I want is to run to him with my problems when I’m upset with him, so instead I call roadside assistance and wait.