Page 68 of Falling Fast
“So you’re up finally.”
She glanced up to find her father standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning on his cane, one side of his handsome face drooping slightly. The stroke had left its mark on him physically, but her old man was a fighter and still sharp as a damn whip. He was still here, still capable, and wasn’t leaving this earth anytime soon, thank God.
“Hey, Daddy.” Grinning, she got up and walked over to hug him.
He wrapped one arm around her to return the embrace, then jerked his chin at Jamie. “So, you’re back. You here for her, or Easton?”
“Both,” Jamie answered diplomatically.
Her father grunted and patted her back, then stepped back and shuffled into the kitchen, his faithful retired narco-Bassett Hound, Sarge, at his heels. “When’s dinner?”
Wyatt checked his watch. “Thirty-two minutes.”
“You boys go ahead,” he said to Wyatt and Easton. “I’ll catch a ride with these two.” He nodded at her and Jamie. “But first…” He turned his head, that hazel gaze that had been known to make grown Marines piss their pants landing squarely on Jamie. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind, son. Maybe you and me should have a little talk before we go to supper.” Without waiting, he turned and shuffled his way toward his study.
Charlie bit her lip to keep from smiling as Easton and Wyatt both snickered. It wasn’t a secret that she and Jamie were together now, and that both of them were ready to take things to the next level. By moving in together.
She just hadn’t told her father that yet.
Jamie grinned good-naturedly as Easton came over to slap him on the back and offered a, “Good luck, brother.”
“Thanks. I—” Jamie stopped, did a double-take as he craned his neck around to see her father in his study, then snapped his head around and looked at her with an incredulous expression. “Is he seriously cleaning a shotgun right now?” he whispered.
She winced. Her father could be so ridiculous sometimes, but she loved him anyway. “Pretty sure, yeah.”
Wyatt chuckled under his breath and grabbed his black Stetson from the kitchen table. “Much as I’d love to stay and watch this, my fiancée will have my hide if I’m not home when dinner’s supposed to start.” He slapped Jamie on the shoulder on his way by. “Guess we won’t wait, but we’ll save some for you guys.”
Jamie looked at her, alarm in his eyes as the kitchen door swung closed behind her brothers, leaving them alone. “Are you…coming in there with me?” he asked, looking adorably hopeful and confused and alarmed all at the same time.
“Nope. Sorry, big guy. You have to pass this rite of passage on your own. Just remember I love you, and that I’m worth it.” Lifting up on her toes, she smacked a kiss on his lips then gently pushed him toward the study where her father was fiendishly cleaning a barrel of his shotgun, albeit awkwardly now that he had only limited use of one arm.
Love and pride overwhelmed her as she watched Jamie straighten his shoulders and walk toward what was no doubt going to be one of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life.
“Slide the pocket doors shut and have a seat,” her former USMC gunny sergeant father said gruffly without looking up from his work.
Jamie hesitated a moment, then pivoted around to pull the oak doors closed. Through the opening, his eyes met hers. She grinned and blew him a kiss, and he gave her a mock scowl before pulling the doors shut.
Poor guy.
Smiling to herself, she took her coffee and went over to sit at the kitchen table, because knowing her dad, this would probably take a while.
—The End—