Page 203 of Calamity Rayne Gets Hitched

He stilled then rasped, “Oh, Rayne.”

I wasn’t going to cry. “I know.” I helplessly tossed my hands in the air as my voice broke despite my effort to keep it together. “I should have expected…”

“Hey, hey, hey… No. It is not your job to anticipate other people’s shitty behavior, do you hear me? You are not going to feel guilty for giving people the benefit of the doubt.”

“But if it wasn’t for me, he never would have gotten close enough?—”

“He’s your father, Rayne. You waited your whole damn life to meet him. Whatever financial damage he did, that’s on him. Even if there was a way to know that might have happened, Hale would have still told you to go through with meeting him.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Yes, Rayne, he would. That man… He loves you. He’s going to take care of you and be there for you the way a real partner should. He sees it as his duty to keep you physically and emotionally whole. And while this credit card shit isn’t what anyone would ask for, it’s not like it’s something Hale can’t handle. He had it straightened out in a matter of minutes last night.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was there. His only concern was finding you and making sure you were okay.”

“But he doesn’t know it was my dad.”

“And when you tell him, or when the police do, his only concern is going to be you.”

With a soft creak, the bedroom door whispered open and Hale stood in the opening. Startled, I sprang back and wiped my eyes. “Hale.”

His brow pinched with tension. He glanced at Tyler. “Can we have a minute?”

Tyler sprung off the bed. “Yup.” He quickly gathered up the magazines but several slipped out of his arms and landed on the bed. He looked at me apologetically. “Sorry. I’ll just… see myself out.”

Hale waited for him to leave and then shut the bedroom door. How much had he heard?

He turned, the manila folder in his hand, and a pen in the other one. “We need to talk.”

Let’s John Hancock this Bitch

AND CALL IT A DAY

My stomach rebelled as Hale closed the distance. He stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at the sea of tabloid pictures strewn across the blankets. Tossing the manila folder in front of me, he swept up the magazines and carried them to the bathroom, where he dropped them in the trash.

“Trash goes in the garbage, Rayne. I told you not to read that rubbish.”

“Tyler brought them.” I scooted back, folding my feet below my knees as he sat down.

He studied me for a long moment then said, “Tell him not to do that anymore.”

“Okay.” I agreed, no good came from looking at that trash.

He gently rubbed my foot through my sock. “How are your feet?”

That little touch helped me breathe a little easier. Small talk was good. “Better. The stuff the doctor brought helped. So did the aspirin.”

“Good.” He pushed the manila envelope to the center of the bed and fully faced me. “Rayne, you could have told me about your dad.”

I dropped my gaze. “I guess you heard.”

His hand moved to my knee. “Why wouldn’t you come to me?”

“I was ashamed. He’s my dad." Then I realized how that sounded so I looked up and blurted, “I wasn’t trying to protect him. I only wanted to protect you. I’m so sorry he did what he did, Hale. It was my fault. I left the card out when I went to the bathroom during one of our lunches. You trusted me and I should have been more responsible. If I had the money to fix the damage, I’d pay it back?—”

“Enough. That man is not your responsibility.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his stare. “But you’re mine. Baby, I can only imagine what this did to you.” He took my hand and squeezed. “That’s a lot to handle, especially right before a wedding. And I know how much you were looking forward to him walking you down the aisle.”

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