Page 23 of Score on You

“But why? He was just doing what’s expected.” Which is just one of the many reasons I was desperate to escape. The emotional damage still impacts me to this day, but I’m getting better. “That’s just the way things are where I’m from.”

“It doesn’t matter what fake rules he’s using as an excuse. What he did is wrong. My fury is the least he deserves. It bothers me beyond reason to imagine you hurt, especially by someone who should be protecting you. Not that his position matters anymore. I’ll do the honors from now on.”

My breath hitches. “You want to… protect me?”

“Always.”

“Then stay. Don’t hunt the past. Let’s focus on the future.” I bite my bottom lip. “Together.”

“Ah, damn. Who am I to argue with that?” His focus slides to my mouth. “Are you giving me permission, as we move forward, to deal with anyone who’s careless enough to mistreat you?”

“If you insist.”

“I do. I’d also kick their ass regardless.”

“You’re charming and a brute,” I sigh wistfully.

His fingers flex, almost making contact with mine. “The second trait I’m very familiar with. I used to check guys into the boards for a living. Penalties didn’t stop me. My busted rotatorcuff did.” A dangerous glint enters his gaze. “But I can still deliver a swift beating. They don’t call me Crusher for nothing.”

I wince. “Please don’t fight him over this. It’s old and healed. I’d rather you stay with me and forget about punishing my father. Let’s make new memories. This is our first date.”

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans. “I’m an asshole. An insensitive one at that.”

“You’re not. Trust me. It’s admirable that you want to defend my honor. That’s just not necessary.”

Ridge tips his face to the ceiling, exposing his thick throat that works with a swallow. “You make me weak, woman.”

“Is that bad?”

His eyes return to mine. “Nah, nothing you do to me could ever be bad.”

The slew of compliments has my head spinning. I glance to the side where our ruined dinner rests. “It’ll take me a while to remake the lasagna.”

He makes a disgruntled noise. “You’ve done enough already. I’ll order something instead. It appears you were in the mood for Italian.”

“I’ll never say no to pasta.”

“Pesto tortellini with broccoli?”

My jaw drops as my belly gives a very unladylike grumble. “That’s my favorite.”

“Is it? Interesting.” The sneaky tilt to his lips suggests there’s an interesting backstory to his knowledge.

My squint narrows on him, determined to get answers eventually. “I bet you know just the place to get it too.”

“Sure do.” Ridge digs his phone from his pocket and begins tapping at the screen. “Coming right up, sweetness.”

My fury has simmered to a muted rage. The definition of peace sitting across from me is the only reason I’m stuck to this chair rather than seeking revenge on her behalf. Callie appears oblivious to my stewing resentment toward her father. As if I could so easily forgive and forget and fuck off. My fists demand justice, crushing the napkin in my grip into unrecognizable shreds. But I’m trying to remain calm. At least outwardly.

The reminder that this is our first date plays on repeat. I wasn’t lying earlier. She’s all that matters. Nothing can ruin the night for us. Especially not my foul mood provoked by a man I’ll never meet. He’s not worthy of intruding on us.

If Callie overheard the madness wreaking havoc in my mind, she might ask me to leave. I wouldn’t blame her. It doesn’t mean I won’t drag my heels on the way out.But that’s my obsession talking. For her. Only her.

I might be overbearing, but she hasn’t told me to back off. If anything, her reactions entice me. My gaze feasts on Callie asshe devours her favorite meal. I’m captivated instantly. She’s too gracious, offering me endless praise as if I cooked the food from scratch. The internal conflict and what’s left of my anger melts away.

Every smile and pleased sound is like a badge I’ve earned. Her happiness is infectious. I unclench my hands and rest them flat on the table. My chest expands until pressure warns me that I’m about to burst. That doesn’t stop me from continuing to stare at her, getting more than my fill. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this lucky.

But then I glance at her arm. That scar taunts me as if I’ve already failed her. I vow to never allow harm to strike her again.

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