Undeniable (Always Book 3)

by Lexxie Couper

  I smiled back at her. “Good. You do realize, however, if I ever come face to face with the fuck knuckle, I’m going to break his nose, right?”

  She chuckled, the sound wobbly, but warm with happiness all the same. “I do.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “That goes for your dad as well.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s really going to take me a while to get used to your particular brand of protectiveness. Now, enough with the caveman chest-thumping. I’d like to kiss you, if I may?”

  “Hell you may,” I answered, pulse quickening.

  She rose up onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips over mine in a gentle kiss.

  I was having none of it. Gentle my arse.

  We christened the bathroom, for want of a better word. As it turns out, the cabinet was the perfect height for all our respective bits to line up the way they’re meant to.

  As our bodies joined, I told her over and over how much I loved her. She told me back. I think the entire motel heard. I have no problem with that whatsoever.

  By the time we finished our neighbors in the next room were banging on the wall again. Which when you think about it is kind of perfect. Banging due to our banging.

  Yeah, that was lame. If my career as a vet ever crashes and burns, comedy will not be my go-to second job option.

  I received a text from Dr. Adams while we were getting ourselves back in some semblance of order.

  Doofus was ready to be released. It was early, but because I pretty much knew what was going on, and would have no problems administering his medication and changing his dressing when required, Dr. Adams believed the best place for him to recover was with those who loved him.

  I’d say come home instead of released – that was the normal term a vet used to inform an owner their pet was well enough to leave the clinic – but in Doofus’s case home was a fluid state.

  For starters, my home – which was where I wanted his home to be – was almost thirteen thousand kilometers away. For another thing, Chase might very well want him to stay here in the US. For a third thing, Chase might very well want me to stay here in the US.

  For a fourth, what the hell did I do if she did?

  I looked up from my phone and gave her a grin. “What are your thoughts on moving to Australia with me?”

  Hey, I’ve never been one for holding back. Subtlety wasn’t one of my strengths.

  She looked at me and frowned. Her phone chose that moment to vibrate into life. The fact it wasn’t Pink singing filled me with a happiness I can’t really describe. Chase pulled it from her bag and answered the incoming call.

  “Sis,” she said. “What’s up?”

  Whatever Amanda said, Chase rolled her eyes. “That’s so funny. What’s really up?”

  Chase flicked more than one glance my way as her sister talked to her. Something in her eyes told me she wasn’t completely focused on what Amanda was saying.

  “Uh huh,” she said. “Uh huh . . . wait. What?” Confusion filled her face, followed by frustration. “Oh for the love of God, Dad can stick it in his ear.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Tell him,” she went on, “we’ll be back in San Diego whenever we’re back in San Diego. And if he doesn’t like it, he can find a new daughter.”

  I’m pretty certain the noise that wafted through the connection was Amanda laughing herself silly.

  “Sis?” Chase said loudly in an attempt to get her attention. “What’s the situation with Tanner and dogs? I know they had to be kept away from him when he first came out of hospital but what about –” She stopped, obviously listening to Amanda.

  Whatever the answer was, it made her frown. “S’okay,” she said into her phone with a nod of her head and a roll of her eyes. “Looks like Dad will be seeing us earlier than I’d planned after all. Won’t he be happy?”

  Amanda said something that made Chase laugh.

  “A dog and an Australian,” she said, regarding me with a devilish smirk. “There goes any chance of me becoming the favorite daughter again.”

  I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. The thought of antagonizing Charles Sinclair instilled zero fucks in me.

  Chase hung up and dropped her phone into her bag. “Let’s go get Doofus,” she said. “We can discuss future living arrangements—”

  “At the end of my time here in the States,” I said. “Who knows, some clever sod somewhere may invent a portal for traveling from one side of the world to the other in thirty minutes by the time I’m due to leave.”

  Chase grinned. We were dodging the inevitable. At some point we would have to have the conversation about how were we going to deal with the vast distance between us. I was serious about Chase moving to Australia, but I had little doubt she’d also be serious about me moving to the US.

  Of course, I could be totally putting the cart before the horse here. We’d only just declared our love for each other, Chase had only just purged Donald the Dick from her life. Rushing was the last thing she needed now.

  But fuck a duck, the thought of returning to Australia without her . . .

  I bit back a ragged sigh.

  “Hey.” Her soft exclamation drew my attention to where she now stood, directly in front of me. “Stop your stressing, O’Dae. We’ll work it out.”

  Her kiss told me exactly how confident she was on that statement. I really wanted to feel the same.

  We collected Doofus from the hospital after swinging by one of the biggest pet supply stores I’ve ever seen. In my opinion, the one thing the Americans know how to do better than any other country on the planet is super-size. Shopping for a collar, lead, bed, food and water bowls, chew toys, and other equipment with Chase was one of the most enjoyable times of my entire trip here so far. For her part, Chase glowed. I mean, she glowed.

  She was almost giddy with excitement when she called our friendly Californian Highway Patrol officer, Gibson, and filled him in on Doofus’s condition, promising we would send pictures of Doofus often. She stayed happy way right up until we pulled to a stop out in front of her parents’ house.

  Doofus barked, his head hanging in the space between our seats, the protective plastic cone around his neck thunking against the sides of our seats, his attention fixed on the man climbing out of the bright red convertible Porsche parked directly in front of us.

  “Fuck,” Chase muttered, her grip on the steering wheel turning white.

  My own knuckles, I suspected, were white, what with how tight I’d balled my hands into fists.

  Donald the Dick was striding along the footpath, heading for the Speeding Dragon’s driver’s side door.

  Doofus barked again. Hot anger crashed through me. I ground my teeth. Sucked in a sharp breath.

  Doofus growled.

  Have you ever heard a Doberman Pincher growl? It’s a menacing sound. Now Doofus was only part Dobe, but the rest of him – Great Dane and God knows what else – was equally as intimidating. I gave his neck a quick scratch, even as I kept my eyes on Donald, who was now at the nose of the Speeding Dragon. “It’s okay, mate,” I told Doofus, forcing my voice to be calm. Not an easy task, let me tell you.

  The man taking up almost my entire focus had hurt the woman I love. In turn, I wanted to hurt the fuck out of—

  Chase opened her door and climbed out.

  “I’ve lost my job thanks to you, you little whore,” Donald snarled.

  Right. That was it. I wasn’t putting up with this shit any longer. I opened my door.

  “Someone anonymously told the Dean I was fucking a student,” Donald went on, childish petulance in every syllable. “And now I’ve been—” He stopped as I got out of the passenger seat.

  “G’day,” I said with a cold grin. “Care to take a step back before I have to help you?”

  “Caden,” Chase said to me. “It’s okay. I’ll deal with him.”

  Donald grabbed her upper arm. Hard. “I’m going to talk to you in private, Chase. And you’ll hear every fucking word I
say, you deaf dumb—”

  I stormed at Perry, Doofus growling behind me. A part of me knew if he was physically able, he’d be out of the car and showing Donald the Dick exactly what he thought of him. Movement in my periphery told me someone had exited the Sinclair house, but I couldn’t pull my stare from the art history professor strutting toward us.

  “Caden,” Chase called my name, shaking her arm out of Perry’s grip as I bore down on them both. “He’s not worth it.”

  He wasn’t. But she was. And I may have promised her I wasn’t going to be over-protective, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to stand by while a wanker insulted her.

  “Caden,” she repeated my name when I reached them, flattening a firm palm to my chest. “Don’t.”

  I dragged my stare from Perry’s. Chase looked at up me, her expression calm. “Mom and Dad are watching. Actually, Dad’s coming over her now. Let’s keep this—”

  “I told you I wanted you to marry me, Chase,” Donald cut her off, reaching for her arm again. “What’s this boy going to give you that I don’t?”

  “Respect,” she answered. “Love. And a whole lot of sex that is so good I can’t even describe it.”

  Hate and contempt burned in Donald’s eyes as he slid me a look.

  “And as for you fucking a student,” Chase went on, “it hasn’t been me for over a year. So if you’re looking for your anonymous source, I’d be checking with the student you replaced me with. Or have there been more since?”

  Donald’s lip curled. His eyes narrowed.

  Chase pointed over his shoulder to his Porsche. “Now I’m suggesting you get in your car and get out of my life once and for all. Before I let this boy deal with you.”

  Donald looked at me again.

  Chase did the same. And then she signed Scare the crap out of him if you like.

  Clenching my teeth, I stepped toward him. Just as Doofus appeared at my side, growling.

  It had taken him a while, but it seemed he’d made his way out of the Speeding Dragon after all.

  Donald stared wide-eyed at Doofus, and back at me, and then scrambled away. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty certain a patch on the front of his trousers suddenly got darker. He ran. Actually, he scurried and tripped and stumbled his way back to the Porsche. He didn’t look back.

  If he had, he would have discovered Doofus wasn’t chasing him. He would have seen Doofus sitting beside Chase, his tail wagging.

  If he had, he would have seen me following. Not running. Just striding. Making sure he didn’t turn around. Making sure he didn’t even get the chance to look at Chase again.

  But he didn’t look back. He threw himself into his car and tore away, leaving nothing behind but a billowing cloud of tire-tainted smoke and his dignity.

  I waved my hand in front of my face. Both his dignity and the smoke stank.

  A cold wet nudge against my elbow made me look down. “You are the best dog in the world,” I told Doofus.

  He woofed up at me. And then woofed up at Chase. “And you are the best guy in the world,” she said.

  I grinned. Preened. Couldn’t help it.

  And then I turned my head to find Charles and Jacqui Sinclair standing on the footpath, watching us.

  “So . . .” I said, smoothing my arms around their daughter and drawing her even closer to my body. “Aren’t you glad she picked me?”

  Chase

  “So you’re the student he’s been sleeping with,” Dad said, ignoring Caden.

  The butterflies that had taken up residence in my belly the second I saw Donald’s car turned insane. I stared at my father. He stared back. My brain identified the emotion boiling on his face but my heart refused to believe it.

  “I have never been more disappointed in my life,” he declared.

  Hard to deny that level of negative emotion from one of your own parents when it’s so openly declared.

  Damn. Anger cut through me, turning my pain into something dark and snarky. Of course. “Why?” I shot back, disengaging from Caden’s arms to ram my hands on my hips. “Because your defective daughter actually had the audacity to have a sex life? Or because it was with someone almost as old as you?”

  “Chase,” Mom said, stepping forward. “Charles. Stop it.”

  Dad ignored her. “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough already, Chase? What with dropping out of school, the ridiculous hair, the ridiculous car. And now we find out you were sleeping with your professor?”

  “Really, Dad? Who are you thinking of, right this very minute? Me? Or you?”

  “You!” Rage engulfed his face. Mortified, indignant rage. I didn’t know whether to laugh, or cry. So instead, I stood motionless. And numb.

  Beside me, Caden took my hand, working it out of its aching fist to thread his fingers through mine. Pressed against my thigh, Doofus whined. I didn’t hear him, but I felt the vibrations of the sound through his ribs.

  “Charles!” Mom snapped. Man, was she angry. When had I seen her like this? Oh yeah, that’s right. When he’d threatened to declare Amanda unfit as a mother.

  When had my father, the man who once gave me piggyback rides up and down the supermarket aisle, become such a . . . such a prick?

  He looked at Mom, incensed. “Perry asked the Board if he was married to this student would his suspension be upheld. He was here the other day asking if I’d act as his character witness for the meeting with the Dean and the Board. If I’d known he was talking about you, I would have broken his jaw. Thankfully, I didn’t. In both cases.”

  My stomach dropped. Caden’s fingers tightened on my hand.

  Jesus. Was that what Donald had been doing? Trying to restart our relationship so he could keep his job? Oh God, I think I wanted to be sick.

  Dad fixed me with a level stare. “I can’t believe you were . . . were . . .” He stopped, swiping at his mouth with a shaking hand. “Why, Chase? Did he pressure you?”

  “Charles,” Mom said, stepping up to put her hand on his arm. “Perhaps out here isn’t the best place to have this discussion. Nor is it perhaps the best time. Can’t you see Chase is stressed?”

  Dad let out a terse breath. “When is going to be the best time, Jacqueline? When she’s forty and has wasted her life?”

  “Enough, Charles,” Mom snapped. God, I loved her right then. More than I can articulate.

  Swinging back to me, Dad ran a narrowed-eyed gaze over me. “Seriously, Chase. If I’d known you were . . . you were . . .”

  “Say it, Dad,” I said, feeling numb. “C’mon, you’re a man of words. How would ol’ Bill Shakespeare put it? ‘Making the beast with two backs’ with him?”

  “Chase.”

  I flinched at Mom’s reproach. Caden held my hand tighter.

  My stomach rolled. My throat seized, a hot lump choking me. Tears stinging at my eyes, I stared at Dad. “In the absence of fatherly love and respect, I went looking for the next best thing. I came up short, clearly, but whoa, did I learn a lesson. And isn’t that one of the things you’ve longed for me to do? Learn? Use my brain?”

  Something dark flickered over his face. Something tormented and haunted. “Absence of fatherly love? Do you honestly think I don’t love you, Chastity? Do you honestly think I would get so stressed and agitated about you, about what you’re doing if I didn’t love you? You need to stop wasting your life and get back on track.”

  A scratchy breath tore from me. “You know, Dad, if you really took the time to understand me, you’d know I’ve never wasted a second of my life. I’ve lived it, for better or for worse, true. But I’ve lived it. I’ve been brave, I’ve been foolish. I’ve been scared.” I looked at Caden, my smile for him and him alone. “I’ve been wrong and I’ve been right. All those things I’ve been because I’ve lived. I thought one day you’d finally understand that. But it has nothing to do with me, has it? The way you treat me, the way you think about me, has everything to do with you and your expectations and elitism.”

  “Enough,” Char
les stamped his foot. Yes, the foot had gone down. We’d reached that level of fatherly engagement. “Of course I speak from worry. You’ve been screwing your art history professor for who knows how long, and now you turn up after three nights with this Australian?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Careful, Dad, your American elitism is showing again.”

  He threw up his hands, exasperation warring with disbelief on his face. How many nights of my life had I looked up at that face when I was young as he read story after story to me? This was the man who had given me my love of Shakespeare, had taught me my appreciation of Chaucer. This man introduced me to the surreal perfection of Dr. Seuss and the dark humor of Roald Dahl. And now, this was the man questioning everything I had become. Everything.

  “This is not the time for your sarcasm, young lady,” he declared. “It’s time for you to wake up and start living up to your true potential again.”

  And there it was. His openly mortified dissatisfaction with how his daughter had turned out. Talk about home truths hitting hard. Donald had nothing on Dad for making a girl feel good about herself.

  Nothing.

  Meeting his glare, I shook my head. “No, it’s the perfect time for my sarcasm. Gee, Dad, so glad to see how ecstatic you are that I’m finally happy. And I am happy, Dad. This guy right here, holding my hand? Caden O’Dae? The guy who saved your grandson? He makes me happy. Really happy. It took me longer than it should have to see the light, but I did. And I came back here, to my home, to my parents, to share that with them. And instead, I’m facing you down on the sidewalk as you lecture me again about how crappy I’m living my life. Father of the Year award goes to Charles Sinclair.”

  “Chase,” my mother said, stepping forward.

  I shook my head, tears hot on my cheeks. “No, Mom, I need to say this. I really do.” I turned back to Dad. “Think about that, Dad. You pride yourself on raising intelligent daughters, but when we have the audacity to use our brains in any way you don’t see fit, your disappointment is palpable. Why can’t you look at me, really look at me, and see me? Your daughter? Who has achieved so much more in her life than a simple piece of paper could ever encompass?”