Page 115 of Wilde and Deadly

A strangled sound caught in his throat as he barely stopped himself from flinching. His hand snapped around her wrist in a firm grip, his glare searing into her, half warning, half plea.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Maybe I have my hands all over him.”

“Jesus Christ. Why the hell would you say that to me?” The sheer horror in her dad’s voice was palpable before he launched into a string of colorful curses that did his sailor heritage proud. “I should have known. The way he dropped every-fucking-thing to find you, the urgency in his voice whenever we talked about you?—”

A sharp crack, followed by the unmistakable shatter of glass.

Rowan blinked. “Did you just break your after-dinner beer?”

He grumbled like an unhappy bear. “I need another drink.”

“Mom won’t let you. You only get one.”

“She’ll make an exception when I tell her who our girl’s been fu—” He broke off and made a deeply pained sound, something between a groan and a strangled whimper.

Rowan rolled her eyes, but the fondness crept in anyway.

For all his gruffness, all his over-the-top reactions, he was still her dad. The man who had taught her how to ride a bike, how to shoot a gun, how to throw a punch. The man who had always, always shown up—whether it was for scraped knees or a broken heart.

And now, here he was, freaking the hell out because she had fallen for someone he never saw coming.

She pressed her forehead against Davey’s shoulder, letting the warmth of his body ground her.

“Goodbye, Dad,” she said softly. “I can’t come home yet, but I promise I’ll talk to you again soon.”

Gabe didn’t respond right away, and for a second, she thought he might capitulate. Maybe he’d let go of the fight just this once, tell her to be safe, that he loved her, that he just wanted her to be happy.

Ha.

His breath left him sharp and agitated, thick with disapproval. “Yeah, yeah. We’re gonna talk, all right. After I fly there and test my new metal leg on Davey’s ass.”

Rowan groaned. “Dad, no.”

“Decision made. Audrey!” he called away from the receiver. “Book us a damn flight to New York! We’re going to get our daughter.”

The call ended.

She didn’t move right away. Didn’t turn. Just sat there, staring at the dead receiver until Davey plucked it from her hand and placed it in the cradle. Then he pulled her tight against his chest and just held her.

She curled against him, exhaling slowly. “He’s going to kick your ass.”

Davey sucked in a breath through his teeth and dropped his head against the back of the chair. “Yeah, I did hear that part.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “Specifically, he said he was going to test his new metal leg on it.”

“Well, joke’s on him.” He tapped his thigh, right over the scar she knew too well, where the metal rod reinforced his femur. “I’m half metal, too. We’ll clash like a couple of pissed-off cyborgs. Think we’ll make sparks?”

Rowan let out a breathy, startled laugh and pressed a hand to her face. “Jesus, Davey.”

He smirked, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes. “Look, your dad scares the hell out of me, and I fully expect to suffer for this. But I’d still take the hit.”

Her damn heart went warm and liquid, melting away all her usual defenses. But she refused to let him see it. Instead, she rolled her eyes, aiming for exasperation. “Great. You and my dad are going to fight over me like I’m a goddamn prize goat.”

Davey dragged his fingers down her spine, slow and deliberate, just to feel her shiver. “Pretty sure I already won, Hellcat.”

She scowled at him, but it held no real heat. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, still curled up in my lap.”