Page 39 of Four Simple Rules
“Blake, you look so beautiful,” my father says, eyeing my dress with pride. “I’m so happy you’re here to celebrate with us.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper, leaning in to wrap my arms around the big man for the first time in what feels like decades. “I’m happy to be here, too.” And I am. My heart hasn’t felt this complete in years. It was broken with missing pieces. But now? Gosh, now I’m beginning to mend after so long.
When was the last time my father stopped to hug me? Pay attention to me? Actually, see me?
I suck in a breath, taking in the old cologne sprinkled on his suit. It’s the same manly smell from my childhood when he’d sneak into my room before his third shift job at the police department. Back when he was just a cop working the beat and keeping our streets safe before they promoted him to detective.
His burly arms encase me in a hug, clinging tighter as his lips brush my curled hair.
“I’m sorry for the past, Pumpkin,” he murmurs, just for me to hear. “I’m sorry for pushing you away when you needed me most. I’m sorry for being so absent for the past ten years. Just know I never stopped loving you. I just…” He squeezes me harder, lightly rocking to the soft music playing through the speakers.
“I understand,” I rasp, tamping down the emotions bubbling up my throat. “You went through...”
“No. There’s no excuse for a parent to check out when their child needs them. I lost two people in my life, and I may as well have lost you, too, with how I acted. But I want to repair this, Pumpkin. I want to have you over for Christmas. I want to come to your new apartment and check out your greenhouse. I’ve looked at pictures online. Hell, I even read the article you wrote about the university and its horticulture program. I’m so proud of you, Blake. You’ve turned into such an amazing woman. And you did it all by yourself.”
I rear back, staring up at the parent I lost in grief. He was drowning, but now he’s buoyant and above the water, looking at me with regret and love flashing in his eyes. I’ve longed to hear those words. He’s proud of me. He’s followed my career, reading the few articles I’ve published on horticulture. A hobby he never seemed interested in, even when plants littered my room for decoration.
“Thanks, Dad,” I choke, squeezing my eyes shut. The rest of the world falls away, leaving my father and I in a tight embrace. “That means everything to me. I’d love to come for Christmas and Thanksgiving. I can even give you a tour of my office.”
“I’d love that, Pumpkin,” he chokes, kissing my head. “I’m doubly sorry it took me so long to say those words. But now, let’s start fresh, okay?”
There seems to be a lot of starting over in my life. From reuniting with Jesse and Dad to starting a new chapter without Jared, I can’t wait to start fresh.
But this?
I’m ready to move forward with this restart, breathing fresh air into my life.
This is the next step I never knew I needed, and I’m more than willing to throw all my hats into this ring. Frick the consequences.
Dad steps back, wiping his eyes. “Well, you kids have fun tonight, okay? Gracie and I are going to start our honeymoon.”
“Right,” Jesse says with a smile, pulling me back into his side with a possessive hand. “The Bahamas, right?”
Wait. What? They’re leaving…
“That’s right, honey. An entire week in the sunshine.” A smile rushes over Grace’s cheeks, accompanied by a slight blush reddening her cheeks. “Our plane leaves tomorrow at 8 a.m.”
“So, we won’t be home tonight.” My father’s brows raise as he looks between us sternly. “So, no burning down the house while you’re there. Bring in the mail. Water the plants. And make sure you two are responsible.”
“He’s already heard this lecture,” Grace coos, pulling my father’s arm down as he sternly points toward Jesse. “They’ll be good kids.” Her eyes scan the two of us standing so close together. Jesse’s breath blows across the top of my head. Shivers run down my spine at the implications of the night.
Our parents won’t be home.
It’ll just be the two of us.
I’m so boned.
Literally.
After hours of dancing, drinking champagne, and celebrating our parents’ union, I drive us back–sober, of course– to the dark and empty house, having forgotten our parents were sailing away right after the celebration to the Bahamas to continue their joyous celebration. Right now, they’re nestled at the hotel we left, doing God knows what. Nothing I want to know. Leaving me and Blake to our own devices. Just me and Blake. No interruptions stopping us from our reunion.
I told Blake I’d sit back and be her friend first. That was the biggest lie I’ve ever told. I don’t want to be her fucking friend. Never have been. I want to fuck her. Love her. Make it up to her in every way possible. I want to wrap her in my arms and hold her tight, refusing to let her go. Ultimately, I respect the hell out of my girl. I’ll do whatever she wants. Going slow or fast or whatever. I’m trying, at least. My patience is running thin. One little tug, and I’ll uncoil and claim what’s mine.
One thing is certain; she’s not allowed to leave me for the rest of the week. If I have to convince her with my dick—who has a mind of his own, by the way—that she’s meant to be here forever, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Every second of every day we have alone, I will drill the facts into her with my hips.
Fuck. I bite into my fist, looking out into the darkness surrounding us. I have to calm down before I scare her away. Or do something stupid like reaching over and stealing her breath, a heated kiss I’m desperate to plant on her. I can’t push her too fast. I can’t ruin the fresh start we’ve established.
After several deep breaths, I peer over at her as she slams her phone down into her lap again—an action she’s taken all night, hiding her screen from me with furrowed brows. Something is bothering her, and I’ll find out what.
