After letting my dogs out of Kayla’s house, I walked to my own and downed two cups of black coffee before I even began to feel remotely human.
Which led to now.
“I’m up early,” I agreed. “I wanted to come with you.”
Dad didn’t even blink an eye at me coming with him.
I’d done it a lot when we were younger. Not so much lately seeing as I’d learned the value of sleeping in.
He walked around his truck and opened my door for me. Before I could hop in, though, my dogs leaped and made their way to the back seat where they sat down nicely.
“At least they are considerate,” Dad muttered.
I agreed.
My dogs might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but they were considerate. They were also sweet, and I loved them. Rafe loved them, too, unlike Tegan.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a problem with Tegan?” I questioned, looking at my father.
He gestured to the truck, and I got inside.
He slammed it closed and didn’t answer me until we were well on our way.
“Who am I to question who my daughter marries?” he asked.
I gave him a look.
“My prom date you decided needed a lesson in putting on a condom. You made him practice it on a banana five times before you let him out of the house. The moment we got to prom, he left me and didn’t return until five minutes before eleven. He picked me up, dropped me off, and then left to go out and party with people who he knew weren’t going to have him killed later on for hurting them,” I drawled.
My dad’s mouth quirked up. “The kid was a wiener.”
I had no doubts about that.
I hadn’t liked him, and honestly, he was just a boy who was taking me on a date to the prom.
Personally, I would have much preferred it if Rafe took me, but it would’ve looked quite odd if that had happened.
Not to mention that my dad would have most certainly put a stop to that.
Now…well, I wanted to know what it was that was keeping him from telling me everything about Tegan.
I would have wanted to know.
I would’ve stopped it moments after finding out had I known.
“I made myself a promise when you were younger that if you were dead set on doing something, I wouldn’t get in your way. I wouldn’t try to persuade you from taking a different road, and I definitely wouldn’t stop you if you were bound and determined to make it happen,” he said into the quiet cab. “Did it kill me that you were marrying a man I disliked? Yes. But Tegan wasn’t a bad guy. He was just too power hungry when it came to his job. He would’ve provided for you. I’d watched the two of you together, and he made you laugh. And, honestly?”
“I always want honest, Dad,” I teased.
Even if it hurt.
“Tegan was just trying to make a name for himself,” he started. “I disliked him. I wasn’t sure if that was due to him being a douche bag at work, or because I hated him with you. So, to keep my emotions from getting the better of me, I chose not to tell you anything. I wanted you to make your own informed decision. And if you thought he was bad, you would’ve stopped it. I trust your judgment. And, eventually, I would’ve gotten over it.”
I pursed my lips.
Dammit, I hated when he treated me like an adult!
“Sometimes, Daddy, I want you to tell me when I’m doing something you don’t like,” I pointed out. “You would’ve had to have him at every family dinner, reunion, school function. He would’ve been there forever.”
He winked. “If it’d have been too painful, I would’ve told you so.” He shuddered then. “But I didn’t think about him being there for Christmas dinner and shit. I would’ve hated to ask him how he liked his eggs.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes.
“I guess now’s a good time to tell you what I know.”
He hummed his agreement, and I buckled down and told my father everything that Rafe said I could safely share.
Rafe hadn’t spared a single detail of his investigation, but he also trusted me with it all. He knew I wouldn’t react badly…unlike my father who would be very interested in the case because of his time in the military.
“So, Elspeth is just part of his investigation?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “She pulled a ‘While You Were Sleeping’ on him and acted like they were engaged. He didn’t know any different, so he didn’t contradict her.”
“How did she know he was there?”
That had been a question on my mind, too.
“We don’t know,” I said. “He said he’d ask her, but he didn’t just burn that bridge last night, he set fire to the whole village. I’m not sure what he’s going to be able to find out from her at this point.”
My dad grunted and took a turn that led to the back of Free property where they’d built the indoor gun range.
“He remembers everything now?”
I nodded.
“And you’re sure you want to date a forty-something-year-old man?”
I grinned. “Yeah.”
He stayed quiet for a few long moments, clearly trying to decide what he should say next.
And eventually decided to just say it.
“Janie,” my father hesitated. “I don’t think you have any clue what you’re getting yourself into here.” He pursed his lips as he pulled into the parking spot directly in front of the main door, then shut the truck off. “Rafe’s intense. He’s pissed off all the time, and I have a feeling he might try to work some of that anger out with you.”
I blinked, staring blankly at the wall.
“I know exactly what I’m getting into, Dad,” I said, surprised that my father would broach any subject that had to do with sex. If the subject strayed too close to that edge, he shied away. Not that he couldn’t talk about it to everyone else, it was just when it came to his kids that he got uncomfortable. My aunt Cheyenne and my mother were the ones that opened that can of worms. If I wanted to know anything at all about sex, I could talk to any number of women in the family. All of them were very open with anything pertaining to sex.
Yet, hearing my father say it to me made me quite uncomfortable. Which he could tell that I was, too.
“Just…think about it, okay?” he said softly. “Think before you act. Don’t dive before you know what’s under the surface. You may not like what you find, and you might be too far in to save yourself.”
I didn’t reply to that, but that was due in part to the fact that he’d gotten out and slammed the door.
I got out moments later and shut my door, then headed to the back seat where my father had stashed whatever guns he was using that day.
I grinned when I saw him get his sniper rifle out.
“You normally don’t do that in here,” I said.
The indoor range wasn’t big enough.
“I’m taking it to the back,” he answered.
I nodded in understanding.
In a pinch, Dad used the gun range back behind the building because it was convenient. Any other time he used KPD’s official shooting range since he had to log a certain number of hours each week to stay certified as Kilgore Police Department’s sniper.
Sometimes I went with him, while others I didn’t want to be there for four hours while I watched him do what he’d do.
His work was important, but there was only so much sitting in silence I could take.
Luckily, if he was shooting in the back, that meant he wasn’t going to be there for hours.
First of all, it was only conducive with shorter distances, and second of all, he didn’t shoot very long here.
Meaning it would be a lot more entertaining than usual.
We started out inside, him shooting his service revolver because he got unlimited ammunition for practice with it, while I shot my occasional concealed carry weapon.
I say occasional because it wasn’t often that I
carried it.
There was just nowhere to put it.
I didn’t carry a purse, and most of the time, I lived in way too tight jeans. There was just nowhere to put it unless I wanted to wear the leggings that already had the holster sewn into it. And…I was too heavy for those. I wasn’t a size three. Hell, I wasn’t even a size nine or ten. I was size thirteen. I had booty and thighs for days (and sometimes weeks). I wasn’t squeezing my ass into leggings designed for dainty little girls.
But, every once in a while, I wore an actual pair of pants with a belt, and when that happened, I carried. And to carry, according to my father, I had a responsibility. A responsibility to the public which included me keeping my skills sharp.
Yes, that was one of the problems with having a police officer father. You did what he wanted, and you didn’t complain. He knew best, and he always would.
Even when you’re a grown woman with common sense of your own.
Like I was right now.
“Finger off the trig…”
I turned my glare on my father. “Dad, if you say that one more time, I might actually throat punch you.”
I placed the gun on the counter where we were shooting side-by-side and pressed the button for the target to come back to me.
I grinned when I saw the grouping.
“You know you’re impressed with this,” I said to him, gesturing to my target.
“You’re jerking up slightly to the left.”
I turned to find Rafe standing almost directly behind me, and by the looks of his amusement, he’d been standing there long enough for him to hear me threaten to throat punch my father.
I frowned at him.
“How did you know where we were?” I questioned him suspiciously.
“You said you were going to go shoot with your dad, and it was only a guess on my part from there,” he answered, his eyes going to my dad.
I turned to survey him too and saw that he was unsurprised to find Rafe standing there.
“I’ve been telling her about her jerking problem for years now. You telling her isn’t going to stop it,” he said by way of hello.
Rafe shrugged. “If she doesn’t want to be the best…”
I sighed. “Y’all are annoying. I’d like to see you do better.”
Rafe came up to my dad’s side. “May I?”
My dad shrugged and stepped out of the way, and Rafe had a gun out and aimed down range faster than I could blink.
One second it was hidden somewhere, and the next he was unloading a whole freakin’ magazine in the time it took me to draw my next breath.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “You’re fast.”
Rafe produced another magazine from somewhere—his pocket maybe—and slammed it into the butt of his gun before the spent magazine could even hit the floor. The next ten shots came in a slower procession, but no less practiced on Rafe’s part.
It went like that for two more magazines, and then Rafe placed his still smoking gun down on the counter and reached up to bring the target back.
My heart was pounding.
He’d moved so fast.
I’d seen my dad move like that, but Rafe was something else. It was different watching the man you had the hots for do it. It was as if he had a line straight to my vagina!
And God, the muscles in his forearm that bunched with each recoil from his gun—total spank bank material.
“Janie, what the hell?” my dad asked.
I swallowed and bent down to pick up the box of targets that I’d somehow knocked down in my perusal of the man that I loved.
When I stood back up and shuffled the targets into a row, my eyes lit on Rafe, who was watching me with amusement.
I mock glared at him, causing his grin to widen.
Then I looked away, not wanting to rub anything in my father’s face if I could help it—and got my first good look at the target.
“You missed,” I said in surprise.
“He didn’t miss,” my dad said. “He made it. All forty-one shots. He shot the top right there, see?”
I did see after he pointed it out.
The targets my father used were the ones that had a tiny example of the targets in the top corner, and on that smaller-scaled picture, there was an explanation of each ring’s points.
All shots but one—which was at the head of the tiny little target—was dead center in the middle of the mini-target.
Holy. Shit.
“Holy crap,” I said. “That’s impressive as hell.”
“Practice,” Rafe said. “But I shot all my hollow points. I’ll have to go get more. Y’all save the brass?”
Dad nodded, and Rafe went around picking up the spent brass shell casings. Once he had his hands full, he walked them over to the jug in the corner and slowly dropped them inside without another word.
My dad caught my eye, and for the first time, I saw him grinning.
“I can do that, too, you know.”
I snorted. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go ahead and make me feel like a subpar human being, why don’t you?”
Rafe came up behind me and placed his large palm on the small of my back.
“You’re not a subpar human being, but before you start gloating, you should see if you really are the best one in the room,” Rafe teased.
I pinched his non-existent belly fat. “Thanks for nothin’.”
Rafe winked and then let me go, clearly uncomfortable with any public displays of affection with my father anywhere near around.
Not that I could blame him.
The poor guy had a huge mountain to climb when it came to my family.
They’d disliked him from the very beginning, and was over something Rafe had absolutely zero control of. I would be sure to inform my family that their shit ended when we got together.
And they would give me that.
They wanted me to be happy, and it would be very apparent to everyone in the room that he made me happy.
All they had to do was look at my googly eyes that I couldn’t hide when it came to the man.
“So, Mr. McHot Pants, how do I fix my jerking problem?” I teased.
He replied in an instant.
“You’re anticipating the recoil so you’re bracing your hand once you’ve already pulled the trigger. Which then causes your hand to jerk slightly,” he answered. “What I would suggest is this,” then he moved behind me and showed me how he’d hold the gun.
But, when he was done explaining, he didn’t move back. He stayed where he was. “Try it.
And I did. I did exactly what he showed me, with him solidly at my back.
And I shot a bullseye seven times.
I was profusely impressed.
“Not that I don’t think that was cool, but you can’t be standing at my back all the time. What happens if you’re not here and I need to take care of business?” I looked up at him and batted my eyelashes rapidly.
He bent down and whispered in my ear. “If you need me there, I will be. As your support, your guide, or even to take that gun from your hand and do it myself. I’ll be there. If I’m not, I’ll get there as fast as I can. The day that I’m not will be the day that I’m dead.”
Tears threatened to choke me.
I wanted to say so many things to him. Wanted him to know that I’d be those same things to him. But my dad interrupted the moment by cursing.
Then Rafe was gone from my back, but he smoothed his hand down my backside before he went, making the loss not so terrible.
I turned once I had myself under control, looking to see my dad with his hand on his chest.
“Daddy?”
Chapter 17
Are nap dates a thing? I could go for a snuggle.
-Janie to Rafe
Rafe
“Jesus Christ. Would y’all get off of me? I’m fucking fine. They said it was nothing,” James growled to those around him. “Get the fuck out of here!”
I kept my grin in check. Barely.
“Come on, ladies. Let’s go get some food from the cafeteria,” I suggested to Janie and her two sisters that wouldn’t stop pestering their father.
Shiloh, James’ wife, was smiling.
Janie tried to fluff James’ pillows again, and he’d had enough.
“Janie, swear to God if you touch my goddamn pillow one more time…”
Time for me to step in.
“It was a gallbladder attack, y’all,” I said, stepping farther into the room. “He’s going to be perfectly fine. They’ll probably suggest surgery to remove it, which will be superb because gallbladder attacks fucking blow.”
Scout, Janie’s younger sister, snorted. “And how would you know?”
My lips twitched at her angry words. “I had my gallbladder out when I was thirty. Best feeling ever to be able to eat again. Freakin’ sucked ball…sucked bad,” I answered. “But it’s not a death sentence. It’s just a nuisance.”
“Promise?”
I looked over to see the fear written all over Scout’s face.
“I can’t promise anything. Life is life. Sometimes it doesn’t work out like you want it to. However, based on what I know, it’s fairly routine. He’ll probably be released within the hour barring any problems with his lab work.”
Scout took a deep breath and then leaned into me. “Thank you, Rafe.”
I grinned and looped my arm around her shoulder. Janie’s other sister, Rebel leaned into my other side, and Janie gave me a beaming smile.
I’d passed the sister test. Sweet.
“I don’t have my wallet,” Janie suddenly said, turning to go back.
I caught her by the wrist, letting go of Scout. “I have a wallet.”
She frowned.
“You don’t have…” She started to say.
I squeezed her wrist a little tighter.
“I’m going to,” I declared, leaving no room for argument.
She harrumphed, then fell into step again.
I turned back around myself and caught Scout’s eye when I did.
Her happy, knowing smirk had me raising my brow.
She didn’t look like Janie. She was a much slimmer girl than Janie would ever be and probably had ever been. My guess was that she was always going to be small. Tall and lanky would be a better description. But she was adorable nonetheless.
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