Page 125 of Red Hot Harmony

“Oh, but I do. This image probably undermines my masculinity.”

“It doesn’t.” A shake of her head. “Just because you're a man doesn’t mean you don’t get to cry.”

“I think I used up all my cry quota a while back, but okay…”

Camille reached for my cheek, her thumb swiping across the tear trail on my skin. “I want to know what I’m getting myself into.”

My heart skittered. “So does that…?” I didn’t have it in me to finish the sentence, because my fear of being rejected by her was overwhelming.

She worried her lip with her teeth for a second, both palms resting across my chest. “I believe everyone deserves a second chance. It’d be horribly selfish of me not to give you one, not to consider the fact that Ally adores you.”

“And you?” I curled my fingers around her wrists and held them in place.

“I...I feel things I haven’t felt in a long time—or ever, and no matter how hard I try to imagine my life without you in it, I can’t.”

“Come here, mama.” I pulled her into my arms and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”

“You’re not. You’re just a work in progress.” She smiled into my neck, wrapping her arms around me. “We all are.”

13 Camille

Ally, Frank, and Dante performed covers and were being silly for the rest of the afternoon while Cassy and I put in song requests.

Later that night, we had another dinner together and played some more games, this time, my daughter included.

The following morning, officials reopened several roads and despite multiple fires still raging in their area and along 405, I didn’t want to exhaust our welcome by staying another day. The good news was that Getty was no longer in immediate danger and we could cut through the mountains to the valley.

The sky was still dark and the air was thick with smoke, and being outside without a face covering proved to be difficult.

The Santa Anas continued to blow, spreading black clouds along the coastline all the way to Orange County.

There were also several reports of looting and property damage in the areas that had been evacuated, and my worry for Dream Bride only grew stronger as we pushed through the traffic cramming the narrow canyon highway along with hundreds of other cars.

I called Harper, but he didn’t pick up.

The local tower is still experiencing issues, the radio was saying when I turned it on.Outages will most likely keep happening until the fires are dealt with.

Then a steady stream of static began to take over the report.

Once we cleared the mountains, I dialed my mother and she confirmed that the shopping center was buried beneath at least an inch of ash when she’d stopped by there yesterday on her way back to Porter Ranch. All the other businesses, including Tara’s bakery, which had closed down due to the poor air condition, were also intact.

I still couldn’t reach my father. The landline didn’t work and the calls to his cell kept dropping.

I even messaged him on Facebook; however, the chances of him logging into any of his social media accounts were slim even when he had internet, let alone when the estate was surrounded by brushfire.

Ally was in the back of the Jaguar, going crazy without a phone.

We’d already reported the device lost so the provider could pause the service, but ridding a teenage girl of a mobile device in the twenty-first century was like cutting off one of her limbs.

She was restless and cranky.

Dante sat in the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel, one grasping mine.

Being so open about us, about our relationship, in front of other people, especially my own daughter, made me feel exposed and vulnerable.

But if he had the guts to let me see him for what he truly was—tears and snot included, then I could do this.

Yes, I could do this.

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