Page 47 of A Montana Fake Marriage

Probably yes—on both counts.

Caleb glanced at her from across the room. “Your dad?”

She nodded.

“Don’t answer.”

“I know,” she mumbled.

The phone rang again, and she sighed. “But what if he’s got information about my inheritance? Our wedding anniversary was last week.”

Caleb shook his head. “He can go through the lawyer. I don’t want him speaking to you.”

She frowned. It seemed like it would be easier if she just gave in and spoke to him. Caleb might be wrong.

A knock sounded at the front door, and Caleb put down the book he’d been reading on the couch as he stood. He pointed at the phone. “If he calls back again, just turn it off. You don’t owe him anything.”

She dragged her eyes to the phone the second Caleb trailed a hand along her shoulder. He reached the front door and opened it.

Silence was the only thing that reached her. Then Caleb’s low, angry voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where is she?”

Sammie knew that voice. She’d grown up hearing the disappointed tone and the way he could slice through her with one word. Her head snapped up, and she stared at where Caleb stood. She couldn’t see past him to where her father was likely standing on the front porch, but she knew he was there. She got to her feet but couldn’t bring herself to move a step farther.

“You’re not welcome here. You need to leave.”

“She’s my daughter. I deserve to speak to her.”

“Deserve?” Caleb snorted. “She stopped being your daughter the second you started treating her like an asset and not your own flesh and blood.”

More silence.

Sammie moved toward the door. One step. Then another.

“I have business with her.”

“Then tell me,” Caleb shot back. “I’m her husband, after all.”

It was then that she peered over Caleb’s shoulder to see her father standing beneath the porch lights. He looked haggard, older, worn down despite his thousand-dollar suit. His eyes flicked to meet hers, and Caleb stiffened.

Sammie pressed her hand into Caleb’s then whispered, “It’s fine.”

“Sammie—”

“Didn’t you hear her? She said she was fine.” Her father narrowed his eyes at Caleb. If looks could cut, Caleb would be bleeding out.

Caleb glanced at Sammie, fury, concern, and disappointment in his own gaze. She flinched at the sight of it. Then he glanced from her to her father. “I’m not leaving.”

Before her father could say another word, Sammie turned to face Caleb. “You don’t have to go upstairs. Just… wait for me? In the living room?” She leaned closer, and her lips nearly brushed against Caleb’s ear. “Trust me? I think I need to settle this. Just one conversation.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed. There was a slight twitch near his eye. But the worst part was how hard he held to her hand. It was like he expected her father to steal her away from him. She gave it a squeeze and then jerked her head toward the living room.

Caleb stalked a few steps away, but she could feel him hovering.

Sammie turned to her father and folded her arms. She waited, not wanting to give him any additional ammunition to fling her way.

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