Page 112 of A Temporary Forever

And speaking of fathers.

The brunette on Caleb’s father’s arm is definitely not his wife. She’s probably younger than me. Beautiful, tall and skinny. I never feel threatened by women who look like supermodels. My best friend is one, for fuck’s sake.

But the way her stare fixates on Caleb…thatI find threatening. I mean, she’s here with another man, but…

I look at Caleb, whose gaze is on her as well. With contempt, I assume. I hope. I have no real claim on this man, and perhaps it’s just the aftermath of my insecurities, but the tall brunette sparks something inside me.

A flicker of self-doubt grows in intensity, consuming me faster than I can regroup.

“Father.” Caleb gives them a curt nod. “Carly.”

So it’s not some random arm candy for the night. Caleb knows the woman. Against my better judgment, that prompts me to step away from him.

Caleb looks at me, frowning, and then takes my hand and squeezes. “Celeste, this is Carly. Carly, meet my wife.”

My wife.

Those two words spread through me like a much-needed confidence potion. I don’t even bother to question their unresolved validity.

Squaring my shoulders, I give Carly my best performance, smiling like this introduction is a true highlight of my night.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Carly.” I don’t bother extending my hand, because I know she’ll just ignore it.

Carly’s—whoever she might be—face falls. She eyes me with suspicion, and a generous dose of contempt.

Caleb’s father doesn’t acknowledge us, but takes Carly’s hand and kisses her knuckles. “We should get to our table, darling.”

Carly scoffs. “In a minute.” She turns to Caleb. “Your wife?”

“Enjoy your evening.” Caleb’s voice is clipped as he tries to move past them.

Carly grabs his biceps. “She’s not your type.”

Caleb takes a long breath in and closes his eyes briefly. “And how do you know my type?”

Now, a smart woman would remember she’s here with another man. Perhaps the other man would interfere. But Carly seems set on debating the topic, and Caleb’s father doesn’t seem interested in moving on. It’s like he enjoys the impending drama.

Drama that might get out of hand if the bitchdoesn’t remove her hand from my husband. Drama that’s getting contained only because, unlike her, even drunk, I know I’m here to support Caleb, not embarrass him.

Her behavior, however, helps lessen my insecurity. She’s definitely not attractive.

“Well, she’s…” Carly vibrates with indignation. “You know.” She rakes her haughty gaze down my body. Is she really going to compare our body types here and now?

Caleb smiles at me, and then turns to her. “Do you mean graceful, elegant, and smart? Exactly my type.”

My heart swells in my chest. I have defended myself against snarls like this many times, but having someone give me a compliment to rebut the venom? It shakes me to the core. God, I don’t need a knight in shining armor, but it feels good to have one.

Carly doesn’t read the room and gasps. “But she’s—”

“She wants to say I have more fat on my bones.” I shrug.

“Carly,” Caleb’s father warns.

“Carly, if you have nothing nice to say about my wife, then shut the fuck up.” Caleb swirls me around and leads us to our table.

“So?” I can’t help myself, and my drunken,unfiltered mind wants to find out how he knows the woman.

“Not now,” Caleb growls, as he moves the chair for me to sit. My retort dies on my lips as the lights dim, and the host takes to the stage.

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