“Because you’re a smart girl,” he sympathized. I saw the questions bounce around in his head through the window of his concerned expression, but for some reason, he didn’t ask them.
I wondered if he didn’t need to. Maybe he already knew. Maybe he’d figured it out for himself. Either way, he patted the seat next to him and told me to grab some coffee before I sat down.
While I poured the perfect ratio of cream and coffee in my chipped Mickey Mouse mug, my dad asked a very practical question. “Are you going to have to worry about him showing up again?”
I’d already considered that possibility, and it made me nauseous. I didn’t want to go to work every night worrying about Derrek lurking in the shadows. “I’m not sure,” I answered. “He opened his own restaurant in Charlotte. So it’s not like he has a ton of free time. But I’d love it if he never, ever showed his face again. Like if he could just bury himself upside down in the sand, that would be ideal.”
Dad sputtered his coffee all over his newspaper. “Sorry,” he coughed, wiping up the mess with the napkin he’d been clutching. “Warn me before you start plotting murder.”
I hid my smile in a long drink of coffee. “Will do.”
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I’m going to reach out to him today and tell him that I don’t want him anywhere near the food truck or me.”
He eyed me shrewdly. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“I’m going to file a restraining order.” There. I said it. The words were out in the world now, and I couldn’t take them back. I couldn’t even pretend they didn’t exist. It was something I should have done a very long time ago.
Some of the color leached from his face, and I could tell he had his suspicions, but he hadn’t put together the whole story yet.
He looked at me, blinking slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. Despite my brand-new mettle, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Dad what happened with Derrek. The sunlight was too bright, too revealing. And my past was much too dark. My dad loved me more than anything, but the crippling embarrassment and fear of judgment kept the words locked inside me.
I justified my omission, by reminding myself I didn’t want to stress Dad out any more than he already was. I wanted him as strong as possible for chemo and this gross cancer. He knew enough.
A restraining order was not something to joke about, and I hoped he knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t just throw that threat around unless I absolutely needed it.
When I answered, “Not really,” I pushed the guilt aside. I loved my dad more than anything, but I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I needed to start fighting my own battles. Fight them. Not just run from them.
Knowing he would be there for me anytime I needed him gave me a whole new sense of daring.
“You can tell me anything, baby girl,” he soothed. “I know you’re all grown up and got your own business and all that. But I’m still your dad. I’ll still go after any boy that breaks your heart. Or worse.”
I took another sip of coffee to hide my emotional reaction. “I know, daddy.”
His smile was sad, but genuine. “I love you, Vera May. There isn’t a thing in this world I wouldn’t do for you.”
I sniffled and nodded. “Thank you.”
He looked back at his paper, quickly hiding the tears that had filled his own eyes. Geez, all these heart to hearts were turning us into a bunch of softies.
My phone buzzed with a text message. I looked down to see Killian James Quinn’s name appear in the bubble. I’d changed it from James Q because I couldn’t erase the image of a middle-aged man in a bathrobe trolling me from his mom’s basement. Call me when you wake up.
I blushed, surprised by the romantic message, even after everything that happened last night.
Just kidding. I didn’t blush. And the message wasn’t romantic. Leave it up to Killian to send me commands through text without even a please or thank you.
God, that man…
“Big plans for the day?” Dad asked while I decided what to do about Killian’s message.
“Not really. I need to pay some bills and head to the commissary to do inventory. Oh, and manage my Facebook ads. And decide on next week’s menu. I should make a trip back to the truck and do some deep cleaning before it gets out of control. At some point, I need a new pair of work pants. I still haven’t found a bakery to work with either. I should swing by a few more today and drop off my card.”
He stared at me with his cup halfway to his mouth. “I thought today was your day off?”
“It is. That’s why I finally have time to do all the things I’ve needed to do for weeks.”
He snickered, turning his attention back to the paper. “When you were a little girl you just couldn’t wait to grow up. Remember that?”
I rinsed my empty cup and put it in the dishwasher. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“I could have, of course. But that would have spoiled all the fun.”
“Who’s having fun?”
He smiled at me, his grin stretching wide across his stubbled face. “Me.”
I just rolled my eyes and put the creamer away. Since I really did have a ton to do today, I kissed him on the top of his shiny head and hurried to get ready.
My hair was a mess after sleeping on it wet, so I sprayed a half bottle of product on it and hoped for the best. I threw on a navy blue romper, with spaghetti straps and a bright orange belt to give it a pop of color. Rompers were a nightmare when it came to peeing, but I only had a couple more weeks of real summer and Sundays were one of the few days I didn’t have to dress for work-even if I would be working the entire day.
After I’d brushed my teeth, applied minimal makeup and pulled my hair into a loose braid over my shoulder, I grabbed my phone and headed for my car.
Killian had called an Uber last night just like he’d promised and then he’d kissed me thoroughly until it arrived. My belly flipped just thinking about the way he pressed me against my front door and used his very talented tongue to drive me crazy.
I sat in my driver’s seat tapping the back of my phone, deciding what to do. Had I changed my mind about dating? After last night, everything felt different.
I felt different.
Opening up to Killian had been freedom I didn’t realize I needed, but did that change my decision to be single? I still had goals.
Foodie took up almost all of my time. And Lilou was even worse for Killian. We didn’t really have time to pursue anything real.
Besides, as amazing as he’d been last night, I’d promised myself I would never date another chef again. It wasn’t that I expected all of them to be violent psychopaths. But it wasn’t a secret that Killian was arrogant, dominating and driven. The last thing I wanted to do was jump feet first into another unhealthy relationship.
I didn’t want to put myself in another position to be trampled or forgotten about. I didn’t want to ever compromise my dreams for someone else’s again.
So, why did I pick up my phone and call Killian like he asked? Er, demanded.
Because obviously, my heart was a traitor that refused to listen to reason.