Chapter 43
forty-three
CALLAN
The Smiths have been here nearly a week, and I swear, Bree looks lighter. For the first time in a while, she’s laughing more, sleeping better, and not jumping at every unexpected noise. It’s a hell of a thing to witness.
Right now, she’s off having a girls’ day with her mum, mine, Juliette, and Lucy. Which, based on the energy they left with, either involves shopping or drinking. Possibly both.
Tom, on the other hand, was more than happy to hang back, which works out perfectly because there’s something I need to talk to him about.
I clear my throat, trying to figure out the best way to say it. Subtlety has never really been my strong suit. Tom glances over, one brow lifting in that all-knowing dad way.
“Something on your mind?”
Aye. Just his daughter.
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding a little faster. “I need to talk to you about Bree.”
His focus is now entirely on me. “Go on.”
This is it. The moment I’ve been stewing over for weeks, planning every word, every breath, just to get it right.
“Tom…I love your daughter more than anything in this world. She’s the light of my life, my best friend.” I pause, gathering my courage. “I’d like to ask her if she’d be interested in moving here, but I didn’t want to do that without you knowing.”
Tom doesn’t say anything right away. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head, weighing me against some invisible scale only fathers seem to possess to decide if I’m worthy of what I’m asking.
The silence stretches out, the seconds ticking by slower than they should, until it feels like the entire room is holding its breath, waiting for him to speak. Just when I start wondering if I should say something to reassure him that I’m not a complete idiot, he nods.
It’s a very slow dip of his chin, but a nod nonetheless, followed by the faintest hint of a smile. “I know you love her. That much is obvious.”
His expression turns serious. “Just promise me one thing,” he says. “Take care of her, no matter what. And don’t let her hide from you. I already know she’ll move if you ask.”
The relief that floods through me is immediate, but I hear what he’s saying.
Don’t let her hide from you. That’s not just a blessing…
It’s a plea. A father’s quiet confession that he’s watched his daughter carry more than she should, that he knows how easily she slips behind her own walls.
This love, this life I want with her, won’t just be built on the easy moments. It’ll be defined by the hard ones, too.
Bree’s stronger than she gives herself credit for, but I’ve seen the cracks she tries to smooth over.
The way she tucks her pain behind tight smiles, the way she pulls away when life presses too hard.
I recognize it because I’ve been there myself.
And I know that’s when she needs someone to see her.
Not just the version she carefully curates for the world, but her.
That’s what I’m promising. Not just to love her, but to see her. Even when she tries to disappear. Especially then.
I look Tom square in the eye, my voice firm, the promise I’m about to make more important than anything I’ve ever said. “I promise you, Tom. I’ll take care of her. You have my word.”
He nods, a look of approval settling on his face. He reaches out to shake my hand, his grip solid. “That’s what I wanted to hear, son. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
“Thank you, sir. That means more to me than you know.” The words don’t quite do it justice, but I mean every bit of it. Bree’s not just my world. She’s everything.
We sit in silence for a moment, but it’s not awkward. I let the calm settle into my bones, even as the adrenaline creeps in, buzzing just under the surface.
He lets out a low chuckle. “Don’t keep her waiting too long. That girl of mine is stubborn as hell, but when she knows what she wants, she doesn’t mess around.”
Don’t I know it. The woman is a force of nature, which, honestly, makes me wonder why she’s chosen me of all people. But I’m not about to question my luck.
We’re all at Knox and Juliette’s place this evening.
It’s the only house in the group big enough to handle this many personalities without someone stepping on toes or losing their cool.
The smell of Mum’s cooking has been taunting us for the last hour, rich and savory, the kind that makes your stomach rumble even when you’re not hungry.
The buzz of laughter and chatter fills the space, loud enough to rival a pub on a Saturday night, and it’s a welcome kind of noise.
Bree is perched on the arm of a couch with Lucy, her head tilted in that way that shows she’s really listening. Then she glances my way, catches me looking, and gives me one of those smiles that hits you like a punch to the gut and leaves you feeling grateful for it.
Damn, this woman. That smile could ruin me if I let it.
Shannon, Rose, and Mum are in the kitchen, chatting and laughing, the sound spilling out between sips of wine.
I’m half convinced they’re plotting something.
Knox, Paul, and Tom are huddled around the dining table, their conversation a wild mix of gestures and animated arguments.
Most likely it’s about rugby, football, or maybe whisky this time. Whatever it is, it’s loud.
Juliette stands beside me, arms crossed, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watches the chaos unfold, but there’s a calmness in the way she observes it all.
“This is nice, isn’t it?”
I nod, taking in the scene. “It is. Feels like everyone’s where they belong tonight.” There’s a peace in the air that feels earned, like we’ve all found the balance we were looking for.
She glances at me with a knowing look. “Even you?”
I don’t answer right away, my gaze drifting across the room to Bree. She’s laughing at something Lucy said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. My heart stutters just looking at her. I know Juliette notices the way my attention locks on Bree without even thinking.
“Aye,” I finally say. “Especially me.”
It’s true, every word of it. With Bree in the room, with all of this life and love, everything has finally clicked into place.
Juliette lets out a soft laugh, nudging me with her elbow. “You’re a goner, Callan.”
“Don’t I know it,” I reply, shaking my head. But even as the words leave my mouth, I can’t tear my eyes away from Bree.
Shannon’s startled yelp interrupts us from the kitchen, followed by Mum’s unmistakable bark of laughter.
“What on earth?” Juliette mutters, her brow furrowing as she turns toward the commotion.
I push off and follow her on crutches, moving as quickly as I can with my leg still giving me grief.
The sound of Rose’s laughter grows louder, and as we step into the kitchen, we find Shannon standing there, holding a bottle of wine that’s spilled all over the counter, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Rose is doubled over, practically wheezing with laughter, and Mum?
Well, Mum is unfazed, calmly dabbing at a splash of red wine on the granite like this is just another Tuesday.
“Careful now,” Mum says. “That’s not a whisky you can mop up with a biscuit.”
Shannon narrows her eyes, her cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. “I’d like to see you manage three glasses and a corkscrew while dodging elbows!”
Mum, ever unruffled, straightens her back with that air of superiority only she can pull off, then smirks. “And yet I’ve done it, lass, and in heels no less.”
Juliette bites her lip to suppress a laugh as Shannon points an accusatory finger at her. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I’m not,” Juliette says. “I’m just…observing.”
The moment is too perfect, and it only makes Shannon even more flustered. She turns her glare back to Mum, who’s still busy wiping down the counter with the same calm efficiency, completely unbothered by the wine that has now made a small mess.
I can’t resist chiming in. “Sounds like you’ve uncovered a hidden talent there, Shannon. Competitive wine juggling, maybe?”
Rose finally straightens up from her laughter-induced slump, wiping her eyes. “Oh, she’d be brilliant at it, until the final round.”
Juliette elbows me lightly. “You’re not helping.”
I grin. “Wasn’t trying to.”
Arms wrap around my waist from behind. “What has my mom done now?”
I glance over at Mum, still casually dealing with the aftermath of Shannon’s mishap, and can’t help but smirk. “Turn away, lass. You’ll be embarrassed by your mum’s blatant disregard and disrespect for good wine.”
Bree chuckles softly. “You’re brave, mocking her while she’s armed with broken glass.”
I meet her eyes over my shoulder. “Bravery,” I say, straight-faced, “is exactly what makes me the ideal son-in-law.”
Shannon groans dramatically, tossing the last bits of glass into the trash. “God help us all. A smart-mouthed Scotsman with terrible opinions about wine.”
Bree tightens her arms around me, her laughter vibrating against my back. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Even if I do mock your mum’s…destruction habits?”
“Especially then,” she says, her voice light and teasing. Just the way I like it.