Page 7 of A Forever Love

“Dad, no girl leaves the house in her pajamas and without makeup.”

“You used to. All the time.” If Dad frowned any more, his face would resemble the grumpy garden gnome Clem bought and placed out front a few years back.

“That’s because I was a teenager then. I’m in my twenties now.” I place my hands on my hips and lift my chin defiantly.

“You’re only twenty-one.” He shakes his head, and thankfully, the deep lines disappear from his forehead.

I give him a shrug before gesturing toward his laptop. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. My street team had a lead on a case, but now I’m not sure if it’s useful.”

“What’s the case about?” I take a chance, but Dad reads right through me.

“You know the rules, Merry Belle. No shop talk at home.”

I chuckle, approaching closer. “I was just checking if you’ve changed the rules.”

“Some things never change.” Dad holds my hand, securing it between his palms, just like he used to when I was a kid. But unlike those days, my hand doesn’t get lost in his big grip. “I wish I could stop you from changing.”

“I’m not changing, Dad. I’m growing up.” I smile, loving his overprotectiveness. Spending time away from home made me appreciate every small bit of affection that went unnoticed before. His touch feels like a security blanket right now.

“I wish I could stop you three from growing up and just keep you as my babies forever.”

I chuckle. “That sounds creepy, almost like the rooster in Poppy and Sage’s storybook, who never lets his kids outside because he’s worried they won’t return home.”

But Dad doesn’t miss a beat. “Nothing sounds creepy to me.” A new alert on his phone pulls his attention back to his work, and his pout evaporates from his face. “Off you go. And Mere,” he calls out as I reach the main door, “you’ll always be my baby, no matter how old you get.”

I wouldn’t have it any other way, Daddy.

As I make my way toward the garden, which is encircled by lush evergreen shrubs, my heart begins to dance an erratic beat. I suck in a few deep breaths, reminding myself that this is Carter, the guy who’s been a part of my life for forever. But all the pep talk vanishes into thin air as soon as my foot touches the first stepping stone.

Carter stands gracefully by the water fountain, his back turned to me. From this distance, I can’t quite make out the exact color of his suit—whether it’s black or some mysterious darker shade—but under the radiant glow of the streetlights, it’s obvious he’s wearing it flawlessly. The air in this small pocket of the garden feels more tense and cramped, as if it rearranged itself to make space for him. His presence casts its own awareness in the surroundings.

Before I can walk further, Carter turns around.

I lift my hand in a wave, but it dies midair when my gaze finally connects with the man who was the only happy thing in my life for a decade.

His moss-green eyes, which have always felt like home, seem darker than I remember.

My gaze catches on his chestnut hair, then his square jaw and the traces of five o’clock shadow covering it. His cheekbones are high and well-defined. Carter King is masculine and royal, exactly like his name.

“Are we trying that telepathic thing once again?” he rumbles in a voice that’s deep and rough, snapping me out of my trance.

“I was seven when I proposed that.” The heat of embarrassment sears so deep I feel it in my bones as I step forward and up the wattage of my smile to hide my flush.

Before I can reach him, Carter lifts his arms for a hug, probably on autopilot. But the smile on his face slips when I’m less than a few feet away. “M-merida?”

“Are you seriously pretending you don’t know me?” I lightly hit his arm before giving him a side hug that’s as stiff as Clem’s cocktails during girls’ night. My grip on his shoulder tightens when his hand lightly curls around my waist, and an irritable breath escapes me before I have a chance to catch it.

What the heck? I’m over this crush. Over him.

I break contact first and step back, one and then two steps, for reasons that include the safety of my heart. “Dad was hoping you would stop by for dinner.” I don’t add that the entire time I was a cocktail of nerves and anticipation.

“I’d have been there if it wasn’t absolutely unavoidable, mittens.” With that one word, our tense, hesitant smiles blend into familiar. My heart rate slows down.

“I know. So how is it being the CEO of Kings Security? Everything you imagined?”

Carter had been groomed to take over his uncle Connor’s position as the CEO. Not many might know it, but he’s his hardest critic. I’d been a witness to how he’d train on the grounds even after practice sessions because he thought he should have done better. He’s worked with his uncles and my dad since he was seventeen, except for a two-year break when he went to Harvard to get his MBA.

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