He felt for her because the situation sucked. “Admittedly, I’m not an expert on relationships with fathers—”
“Stop right there.” She lifted her hand. “Look, I know it’s stupid, but I learned long ago that the best way to deal with him is to live my life, establish my boundaries, ignore most of what he says, but to not lose contact. It makes him spin when I try to put space between us. He actually gets worse when we don’t talk.”
No way could he fight that argument. “Fine. I won’t announce that I’ve seen you naked. Now can we go in and get this over with?”
She stared at him for a second longer. “Why do I think I’m going to regret this?”
“You’re only just realizing that now?” He opened the door again.
“I continue to underestimate you.”
At least she finally admitted it. “Serious mistake.”
Her father answered the door on the first knock. “Dad.”
His gaze darted to Wren. “Who’s this?”
Skip the hellos. No questions about why she didn’t use her key or just try to open the door. Her father being her father, he jumped right to the only thing he cared about. The stranger on his doorstep. At least the man was consistent.
They still stood on the front porch overlooking the pristine green lawn. The same one she used to lie on as a kid and dream as she watched the clouds stream by. Now, cars passed and the light hadn’t faded, so she could see neighbors walking dogs on the street and smell the scent of freshly cut grass.
She was about to do the formal introductions when Wren angled his body slightly in front of hers.
“I’m the man investigating the Tiffany Younger matter.” Wren didn’t extend his hand in greeting.
Neither did her father. “Your name?”
“Brian Jacobs.”
Her father didn’t move or invite them inside. “Is that also your agency’s name?”
“It’s the name I use.”
Yeah, this was going about as well as she expected. Lots of tension. Underlying strain. A touch of anger. At least Wren managed to give an answer that sounded strange but was really the truth. Impressive.
Her father looked Wren up and down. “You don’t look like law enforcement.”
“I’m not.” Wren didn’t back down one inch. The thread of menace in his voice matched her father’s.
“Then I’m confused about your involvement in this matter.”
“Dad, could we actually come inside before you start the interrogation?” Because much more of this testosterone battle and there might be blood on his beloved roses.
After a few seconds of hesitation, her father moved to the side. “Fine.”
“Thanks.” It seemed like a stupid thing to say to her father, but her nerves were zapping. As it was, she wondered if the pounding headache would ever go away.
They got in and as far as the top of the step down into the family room before her father started talking again. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding, Mr. Jacobs.”
“How so?”
“Your services are not needed. I’m happy to pay for—”
“You can’t fire him.” She wanted to make at least that much clear.
They’d launched into all-out war without bothering to sit down. They stood in the hallway leading to the back of the house and the kitchen. No fanfare. Nothing. Just arguments. She was transported to her teenaged years again, feeling out of place and uncomfortable.
Her father pointed a finger at her. “I’m trying to fix this.”
“That’s my job.” Wren put the side of his hand against her father’s finger and moved it out of her face.
She could fight her own battles, but it was pretty sexy to have a guy who wanted to stand up and help. “Maybe we should sit down.”
As usual, her father ignored her. “What does that mean?”
“That’s what I do. I look into problems and solve them.” The explanation didn’t exactly say much. Wren stood there with his arms folded in front of him, not looking like he intended to offer more.
Her father scoffed. “That’s not a career.”
Wren smiled at her. “I’ve heard that before.”
She immediately felt lighter, more confident and secure. “I told you that you need a better explanation of what you do.”
He nodded. “Apparently.”
Her father stepped up, right in Wren’s face. “This is a serious situation.”
Wren didn’t move. “I assure you, I know that.”
Another exchange and her father might run right into Wren. Emery really didn’t want to see that, so she rushed to give some context. “He usually takes on much bigger matters.”
“Actually.” Wren’s deep voice commanded the room. “I don’t think there’s anything bigger than a missing loved one. But the point is I have the resources needed to complete the work.”
If she hadn’t been falling for him before that statement that would have done it. The intensity of his voice, the purity of his words. He wasn’t giving lip service or trying to win anyone over. He stepped up and helped with Tiffany because she mattered to him. A young woman he never met. A person he didn’t have any responsibility to, yet he took it on.
Damn, she loved everything about that. Everything about him.