Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
WYATT
Rachel is nervous about me meeting her parents, specifically her father.
And while I want to make a good impression, I don’t much approve of him abandoning his daughter in our small town just because she made a mistake.
It was a careless one—I won’t argue with that.
A dangerous mistake too, but she’s okay.
The house will be okay. Besides, he’s got more money than he knows what to do with and can fix everything without worrying about his finances.
Hell, it’s one of like . . . four houses they own. They’ll be just fine.
It’s hard for me to forgive him for getting angry at her over an accident and cutting her off financially. He knew she would suffer because she was completely dependent on him. So she almost burned the house down. Things could be worse. She could be a drug addict. A murderer. A thief.
She’s none of those things. She’s a beautiful woman with a heart of gold. Sexy and funny and thoughtful. Okay, I may be prejudiced about her, but damn. You’d think her parents would be too. That they’d only see the good things and allow them to overshadow the bad. Apparently not.
Whatever. I’m going to be polite and on my best behavior through this breakfast, brunch, whatever you want to call it, and then we’re going to the airport and getting the hell out of here. I can’t wait.
“Do I look all right?” I tug at the too-tight collar of my charcoal-gray button-down shirt. Not that it’s actually too tight, I just haven’t worn anything like this in months. Not even my uniform. It feels weird.
“You look amazing.” Rachel’s smile is warm, just like her gaze as she contemplates me. We exit the elevator and head for the hotel lobby. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me.”
“I can’t either.” I’m happy this all worked out, but I already feel itchy being in this city with so many people and cars and noise. I miss my peaceful little town. Does that make me narrow-minded? Probably.
Her face falls the slightest bit. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean I’m still surprised I dropped everything and traveled across the country to see if you’d want to come back home with me, and I’m glad I did it.” I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You know I’m not a spontaneous person.”
“I know.” Her voice is soft, her eyes glowing. I pause in the hotel lobby, leaning in and dropping a kiss on her perfect lips. “Thank you for agreeing to meet them.”
“Whatever it takes to get you on that plane.” I kiss her again because I can’t resist. “Come on. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“I doubt they’re even at the restaurant yet. They’re always running late.”
We head for the restaurant, and her entire body stiffens when she spots the older couple waiting in front of the entrance, and I know they’re her parents.
They’re dressed impeccably, her father in a dark suit and her mother in a simple pale-blue dress.
Rachel resembles her, and when I catch the smile on the woman’s face, I’m immediately at ease.
“Mom.” Rachel goes to her mother, and they hug, both women seemingly careful not to crumple each other’s outfits. Rachel’s also in a dress—she had it sent to our hotel room not even an hour ago. The conveniences of living in a big city. “This is Wyatt.”
Rachel’s voice is soft and full of reverence when she says those three words, the sound striking me right in the heart. This is a big deal for her, and therefore it’s a big deal for me too. I shake her mother’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Henderson.”
“Nice to meet you too, Wyatt. And please, call me Mari.” Her gaze shifts to Rachel. “He’s handsome.”
I can feel my face get hot, and when I check on Rachel’s father, I see he’s watching me carefully. “Sir.” I offer him my hand.
“Howard Henderson.” He takes my hand, his grip firm, and I match it. He barely says a word to me, just grunts his greeting, and when I look at Rachel, she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go sit.”
Once we’re seated, we make idle small talk about the weather and the benefit they attended last night.
I don’t say much, just sit next to Rachel and keep my hand on her thigh, trying to comfort her.
Her frazzled nerves radiate toward me, telling me without words that she’s still nervous, and every time her eyes catch mine, I offer her a gentle smile.
Only after we make our breakfast order with the server do we get down to business. Howard takes a big gulp of his coffee and sets it down noisily on the saucer, his eyes narrowing as he contemplates me.
“You want to take my daughter back to California.”
Okay. I guess we’re launching right into it then.
I sit up straighter, my gaze never straying from her father’s. “I am. Taking her back.”
“Who says you’re allowed to do that?” Howard arches his brow.
“I do.” I glance over at Rachel, who’s watching me. “And Rachel.”
Howard turns his attention to his daughter. “You want to go back there? Work your little job and play pretend with this man who most likely isn’t good enough for you?”
“Howard,” his wife admonishes, the shock on her face apparent. She sends me an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry for his outburst, Wyatt.”
“You don’t have to apologize. He’s probably right.” I look back at Howard. “I’m not good enough for her.”
No one says anything. The women are watching us, their matching wide-eyed gazes almost amusing, but I remain quiet. So does Howard. Like he’s doing it on purpose, which is fine. I’m not afraid to keep talking.
“Your daughter is the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.
She’s smart. Hardworking.” Howard makes a harrumphing noise, but I ignore him.
“Funny. She loves a challenge, always facing it head-on. She gets along with my brother, which is a big deal, and she seems to love my daughter, which is an even bigger deal.”
“You have a child already.” Howard shakes his head, his disapproval obvious. “Seems to me that you already have a track record in bad relationships.”
“He’s a wonderful man,” Rachel snaps, causing her mother to gasp.
“It’s not his fault the mother of his child couldn’t see that.
She was young, and she most likely felt trapped, I don’t know, but she left them.
Wyatt took over the responsibility of raising his daughter and doing right by her.
He’s not the one who left—she did. I don’t see how that makes him a bad person.
More like he’s a strong person. Wyatt is the most responsible, loving man I’ve ever met, and I . . . I adore him.”
Our gazes meet, and her eyes are full of unshed tears. The sight of those tears shreds my heart, and I reach for her, give her a hug, and kiss her forehead before I pull away, murmuring a soft “I love you” to her.
“Howard, you’re a monster,” Mari Henderson murmurs, and I do a double take at her words. “These two are obviously in love. You have to let her go to California with him.”
“Oh, there is no letting me,” Rachel says, her voice firm. “I’m going. Whether you two like it or not.”
* * *
“You think your dad hates me?” It’s much later, and we’re on the plane, sitting in first class—I’ve never ridden up here before, but considering I rarely fly, that’s not surprising—and I’m about two glasses of wine in. I need the alcohol to mellow me out because flying makes me nervous.
“No.” Rachel slowly shakes her head, her glowing gaze stuck on mine. This woman has got it so bad for me, but that’s okay because I feel the same. “I’m fairly certain he respects you.”
“You put on a little show too, you know.” I reach for her, brushing the hair away from her forehead. “You got all tough with him and shit.”
She laughs. I do too.
“But seriously.” I grab her hand and cradle it in mine. “We have a lot of differences, Rach.”
“I like that about us.”
“I won’t be able to provide you with a massive house or a big ol’ diamond ring.”
She doesn’t even falter over my ring mention. “I don’t need any of those things, as long as I have you. And Dottie.”
My heart eases, and I lean in, brushing her lips with mine. Not that I was worried she’d bail on me, but it is reassuring to hear her say that. “I love you, Rachel.”
“I love you too, Captain Grumpy Pants.” Our huffs of laughter mingle, and unable to resist, I kiss her again.
“You haven’t called me that in a long time,” I whisper.
Her fingers drift across my jaw, featherlight and making me shiver. “It’s fun to pull out every once in a while. A reminder of the first time we met. Not that I’ll ever forget it.”
As I kiss her yet again, I think, I’ll never forget it either.