Page 77 of Resist Me (Forget the Past 3)

They make a picture. Man and beast. Relaxed and adorable.

And damn, if the man gets any hotter, I can forget the stove and just cook the entire dinner on his bare chest.

Don’t tempt me.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

LUNA

What a surprise that my father shows up when I’m handling shit.

The terraced planters I built for myself at the beginning of the previous fall have sat empty for months. But now they’re full of a fragrant mulch, just waiting for seeds.

I’m about to grab the small handwritten labels I made, mentally mapping out my rows of future herbs and veggies, when I hear the squeak of the gate hinges.

I turn, expecting to see Charlie.

Instead, the man on my property is the last one I’d ever give permission to be here.

“Hey, baby girl.” My father wears a falsely affectionate smile.

The nickname and the lie on his face boil anger in my gut. This man is a walking, talking danger, encroaching upon my territory. I should sprint to my house and throw the dead bolt, getting walls between us.

That’s what I tell my clients.

Run.

Run to train. Run on your property. Run in daylight. Run on the treadmill to get your strength up, then run through your house to get comfortable with the sensation.

And then, when you have even the slightest worry that someone intends to harm you, run.

Don’t worry about being wrong.

Don’t worry about looking ridiculous.

Just run.

But I don’t run.

Because I let my rage override common sense and hold me in front of this man as he grins like the victor in an arena.

If this comes to a fight, things won’t turn out the way he thinks.

“Get out.”

Some people might have asked what do you want? Or why are you here?

But I don’t care about those answers. All I care about is if he’s going to leave on his own or if I need to make him.

“That’s no way to greet your daddy.”

Like I ever called him that.

Dad at first.

Asshole behind his back since I was ten.

Piece of shit to his face since I was eighteen.

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