Page 25 of Trucker Daddy

I can hear the smile in his voice and the rumble of his laugh against my cheek. I snuggle into him, content and happy.

"I love you, Garrett."

"I love you, too, Sienna."

CHAPTER 8

Garrett

TWO WEEKS LATER

The bar is dimly lit, the drone of country music filling the air. I sit at a small table near the back, nursing a whiskey neat. The place isn’t crowded, just a few locals, but my attention is locked on the door. I don’t have to wait long.

He walks in, sharp and composed, his tailored coat standing out like a sore thumb in this working-class dive. His eyes scan the room, locking onto me in an instant. I raise my glass slightly, and he walks over, pulling out the chair across from me without a word.

“Thanks for coming.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I’m not sure it was the right choice.”

I set my glass down, leaning forward slightly, trying to read him. “I’ll get straight to the point?—”

Except I don’t get to any point before he interrupts me, the words busting out of his mouth like he couldn’t wait a second longer to say them. “Is she safe?”

Because that was his first question, my respect for the man increases. “She’s the safest she’s ever been. As long as she’s with me, no one’s touching her.”

He exhales sharply, leaning back in his chair, his expression hard to read. Relief? Annoyance? Maybe both. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the small black velvet box. My thumb brushes the soft fabric as I set it down on the table and slide it across to him.

“What’s this?” he asks, eyeing the box like it might bite him.

“Open it.”

The man looks like he’s on his way to his own funeral as he pries the lid open. The ring inside catches the light—a thin white gold band with a solitaire diamond. Simple and elegant, not gaudy.

“I’m going to marry her,” I say, not giving him the chance to speak. “With or without your blessing. But I figured asking first was the right thing to do.”

His jaw tightens, and for a long moment, he says nothing. Then he leans into the light, and I see his face clearly. Sienna always tells me she favors her mother, but there’s hints of her bone structure in her father’s face. He closes the box with a soft click and sets it back on the table. “You’ve got nerve, asking me for my blessing after basically kidnapping my daughter.”

I refuse to rise to his bait. “I love her, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she knows it.”

He studies me, his expression sour before reluctant acceptance washes over him. Finally, he sighs, a heavy sound. “You’ve put me in a position, son.”

“I’m not asking you to like me. But I am asking you to respect that she’s made her choice.”

For a moment, the only sound between us is the clink of glasses at the bar. Then, slowly, he nods. “Fine. You can have my blessing as long as you take care of her.”

“I will.” It’s the most serious vow I’ve ever sworn.

He stands, straightening his coat, and I follow suit. As he turns to leave, he pauses, looking back over his shoulder. “She’s my daughter, whether she likes it or not, and if you hurt her?—”

“I won’t.”

With that, he walks out, leaving the box on the table. I pick it up, tucking it back into my jacket.

Time to make it official.

Sienna leans back on the blanket I’ve laid out, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of stars above. I’m beside her, my arms propped behind me, barely able to concentrate on the stars because of how beautiful the woman next to me is. The expensive bottle of wine she insisted on sits between us, its fancy label catching the moonlight.

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