Page 54 of A Forever Love

“I believe a significant portion of his insecurity stems from feeling vulnerable. That’s why we introduced gun safety into his routine, so he wouldn’t be completely unfamiliar with handling a weapon if needed. However, he also needs to discover his inner strength. With your permission, I’d like to initiate his training in Aikido. It’s a Japanese martial art focused on self-defense.”

Kristy sets her untouched cup down on the table. “Oscar and I are on board with everything you suggest, as long as it’s going to keep my son safe and happy.”

“I’m going to try my best.”

I head straight to the security office after leaving Kristy. Tony, immersed in his work, barely looks up from his desk when I enter.

“Do you ever take a break, Tony?” I tease, noticing his perpetual focus. In the past few weeks, I haven’t seen a single minute when the man is not working.

“When you love your work, breaks become irrelevant, Mr. King. I’m sure you can relate,” he replies, his eyes never leaving the monitors.

“What’s it going to take for you to call me by my first name?” I settle into the chair beside him.

“Have mercy on an old man set in his ways, Mr. King.” Tony chuckles, a wistful tone in his voice.

“So you mean to tell me you’ve never used the first names of any of the Hawthorne family members?”

A sorrowful, nostalgic grin dances on his lips. “Mr. Charles Hawthorne was a persistent man. Back when I was his personal bodyguard, whenever we traveled abroad for his business, he made me his wingman. He never left me a choice. Of course, that was before he got married,” he adds quickly.

“It sounds like he considered you more than staff. More like a friend.”

Tony’s smile remains bittersweet. “I like to think so too. He had a mysterious charisma. Sometimes, I wonder if Master Charles takes after his grandfather in more ways than just his name.”

“It seems like Charlie has big shoes to fill,” I remark.

I’m taken aback when Tony briefly averts his gaze, concealing his watery eyes. I respect loyalty, but Tony’s sentiments seem to run deeper.

* * *

Upon returning to my temporary office, my fingers glide over the bookshelves that encircle the room. This space was once Oscar’s late father’s private library. As I touch the spines of books written in various languages, a smile creeps onto my lips, evoking memories of Merida’s adult bookshelf. I turn and press my back against the heavy wooden shelves, my head gently resting against the thick spine of some Greek literature.

Once more, my mind conjures a reel of images featuring her. Every time I think of Merida now, it’s a struggle to see her as the same girl who used to dance on my toes whenever something wonderful happened. I always believed she would grow up to become a geeky math whiz, and although she still has that brainy, quirky thing going on, it’s everything else about her that makes her hot as hell. My jaw clenches as I think about all the men who get to experience her newfound confidence. Her strong-willed spirit. Her beautiful face, with those bow-like lips, button nose, slender neck, and tits that—

“Fuck. Fuck.” My fists clench at my sides as I stay still to get my raging erection under control.

To add to my mortification, Chloe Hawthorne, Kristy and Oscar’s daughter, who is nothing short of a spitfire on steroids, barrels into the room, holding two dolls bigger than herself.

“Carter!” Chloe storms toward me.

I slouch forward before quickly getting on my knees as she throws her arms around me.

Dammit, I could have scarred her.

“How many times have you been told you shouldn’t run with your hands full?”

She doesn’t miss a beat and replies immediately. “One hundred and eighty-nine?”

“That was a rhetorical question, and how did you get to one eighty-nine?” As always, I can’t help my smile with this one.

“That’s my favorite number today.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because that’s how many days are left until Christmas. I can’t wait to meet Santa. This year, I’m not going to fall asleep. I’ve got to catch him.” She raises her fist in the air as if preparing for a battle.

“If there’s anyone who can catch Santa, it’s definitely you, Miss Hawthorne.” I affectionately boop her nose with my finger.

“You think so?” She pushes her blonde curls off her forehead.

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