Page 151 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

He looks so panicked I cover my mouth to hide a laugh.

Van lifts a shoulder, smiling smugly. “Sorry. You said it. Can’t take it back, Dad. Can I call you that on the ice? It sounds better than coach …”

My dad tips his head back and groans, muttering something aboutof all the guys I would have warned you away from …

But it’s in this very moment I catch a glimpse of the future. I’m not sure Van will evernotdrive Dad crazy. It seems almost like his natural setting—poking the bear. The thing is … maybe my dadneedsto be poked. He needs someone who doesn’t just fall in line the way I always have, my whole life.

Until Van.

The two of them are already starting to bicker again. But I’ve lost my patience for this conversation.

I raise my voice over theirs. “Now that we’ve had this discussion, I’m stealing your player. Hopefully, he wasn’t scheduled to do any press. Because he can’t. He has a prior obligation.”

“I do?” Van asks, but he stands when I give his hand a tug. “I do.”

“Wait,” Dad says, following us to the door. He glances at Van, then holds out his hand, even though there’s a slight curl to his lip. Van stares at his hand for a moment before taking it. “I’m sorry for hitting you. Both times. But especially the one this week. It was out of line.”

Van nods and shakes his hand. “Thank you.”

Dad seems to be turning the handshake into some kind of competition. They’re still shaking and seem to be squeezing one another’s hands too hard.

“Hey,” I say. “Enough.”

Releasing Van, Dad shifts his expression to me. “Milly, I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Which thing?” I’m almost shocked at my own question. But I don’t take it back or apologize.

Dad scratches his head. “All of them. But especially the thing I said about your mom. You’ve never reminded me of her more than today.”

I wrap him up in a hug, and I can feel his shuddery breaths as he hugs me back. My own breathing feels just as wobbly, and I blink back tears. I wait until he’s steady before backing away.

“I’ll be back later to get my stuff,” I tell him. I’m staying at Van’s.” I grin. “With my husband.”

Dad drags a hand over his face. “It’s going to take some time to get used to this.”

“We’ve got nothing but time,” I say, then pull Van out of Dad’s office. “Is there another way out of here that doesn’t involve going through the locker room?”

“I probably should change,” he says.

I shake my head. “No time.”

He chuckles. “Follow me.” As we’re about to push through a door, he says, “But close your eyes. I’ll guide you.”

“Why would I?—”

He opens the door and steam billows out. Along with the sound of running water. Ohhhh … the shower room. And it’s clearly in use.

I keep a hand firmly clamped over my head as Van pulls me through the room. There are catcalls and shouts and people making kissing sounds. Someone starts singing the chorus to Taylor Swift’s “Trouble.”

Van slows, and I hear the sound of a door being pulled open.

“You’ve got a nice voice,” I call. “I think the more appropriate song, though, is ‘But Daddy I Love Him.’”

This earns me a chuckle from Van and roars of laughter that fade as he pulls me out into the hallway. Thankfully, I recognize where we are. Now I’m the one pulling him.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“You’ll see.”

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