Page 98 of Caught from Behind

The one who’s so rarely seen nowadays.

Ella sighs softly, shakes her head slightly.

Then she’s dropping back onto her heels, turning to face my dad, her side resting a little more heavily against mine as she asks, “Who’s up for apple fritters?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Ella

“You sure you’ll be okay?” I ask, body swaying forward to press against the strength of his.

He brushes his fingers over my cheek, ignoring his father practically vibrating with impatience behind me. “I’ll be fine, chérie.”

We had apple fritters. We listened to his dad complain about the early flight and the cold air and the snow still on the ground. Oh, and the table was sticky, there wasn’t enough glaze on his fritter (not possible, I practically get a cavity every time I eat one), and the sun peeking out from behind the clouds is too bright.

“I’m not sure I’ve seen a glimpse of the good side of your dad yet,” I whisper as he turns to glare at a kid who’s accidentally bumped into him.

Riggs sighs. “I’m not sure either.” He leans in, brushes his lips over my forehead. “But every time I think he’s gone permanently, my old dad makes a reappearance.”

I resist the urge to narrow my eyes at Todd Ashford, grumpy old man who I’ve yet to see anything positive from. Instead, I focus on what’s important.

On Riggs.

“I can free up some time,” I tell him. “Can have lunch with you and?—”

His palm flattens against my cheek, tipping my head up, and he kisses me lightly. “I’m going to eat early, chérie, and then get a nap in before puck drop. He”—a tilt of his head over my shoulder toward Sir Grumps a lot—“can’t argue with my game prep, so it’ll give me a buffer before I head to the rink.”

My heart squeezes at the pinched look on Riggs’s face. “And then I’ll swoop in with my charm, escort the old man to the game, and maybe we’ll get a glimpse of something that isn’t grumpy.”

Riggs smiles and it’s so fucking beautiful, it takes my breath away. “Don’t hold your breath, baby. You can take the old, grumpy man to the ice rink, but you can’t take the grumpy out of the old man.”

I snort then exhale, dropping my forehead to his shoulder. “I don’t like leaving you with him.”

Fingers in my hair, lacing through the strands, pressing me lightly to him before he tugs lightly.

I lift my head.

“My Ella,” he whispers. “I love you so much.”

How this man, who I thought—in the months before I really knew him—was taciturn and closed down can raze me with just a few words, I don’t know.

There’s part of me that’s still worried he might leave, might one day look at me like I’m unworthy, but…

I’m addicted.

I know that softness in front of me, have had the soft glow of it shined in my direction, and I won’t be able to let it go.

Not until I’m forced to.

“Hey, Ella!”

I freeze, turn to see Donna, my first appointment of the day, coming up the walk in front of the salon. She stops next to us and looks Riggs up and down. “There’s that hot hockey player again.”

Riggs’s cheeks go pink.

“How’s the haircut?” she asks and I don’t miss her eyes going wide, likely seeing the bald patch I’m responsible for.

“Fantastic,” he says before I can come up with an excuse.

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