Page 94 of Brands

She’s my only focus.

“Is my dad here? He wasn’t sure this morning if he’d go through with it.” She nibbles on the lobe of my ear.

Words slip away from my access as my groin tightens.

“Yep,” I grunt, diving back to find her hungry mouth again.

“Hey, Blue? There’s some sort of shindig, so maybe we should—Shit. I didn’t take you long to find a girl this time, did it?” Clay’s voice makes us both freeze.

Shadowed by the brim of my hat, Libby’s eyes widen.

I peel my head up at a snail’s pace, then meet his grinning face.

But his expression flattens.

“Libby?” As the recognition dawns, anger draws his brows down into a dangerous “V”.

“Dad, look, I can—”

Stars burst in my eyes and my nose pops from the sudden punch.

“What the ever-lovingfuckare you doing kissing my daughter?” He yells, raging seeping from his words.

Blood gushes from my nostrils down my clean pressed shirt.

“Clay, I—” My palm covers my mouth as I pinch at the geyser erupting from my nasal passages.

“Don’t fucking ‘Clay’ me. I know how you are. If I was healed up, I’d beat the shit out of you,” he growls, his fists balling in front of his chest.

“Don’t you dare.” Libby steps between us, facing him. “I love him, daddy.” She keeps one hand on my sleeve, but stands defiantly.

“No you don’t,” he grits. “He’s gonna fuck you and leave like he does all the rest.”

Oh thank God.

Dixon and Ford appear behind Clay, both dropping their heavy palms on Clay’s shoulders.

“I told you making it a surprise would be a bad thing.” Ford shakes his head.

“Let go of me. He’s the asshole here.” Clay tries to shake them off, but in his weakened state, fails miserably.

“No, daddy. He’s thegroom.” Libby jabs her finger into his chest.

That sets him on his heels. “The what?”

“It’s true, Clay.” My voice sounds funny with a broken nose. “I love your daughter.”

He scoffs, his glare flicking between Libby and I. “You don’t love anyone.”

“No one but her,” I correct him. “I bought the farm, Clay. I’m the asshole who wants her to do what she loves for as long as she wants.” Fuck, my nose won’t stop bleeding.

Dixon strides past Clay and raises my chin, clinically appraising my aching face. “You’ll have black eyes, might be a little crooked now, but you’ll live.” He disappears into the men’s room and comes back with a wad of toilet paper. “Stuff that up there.”

“I, I don’t understand.” Clay’s arms drop, the red in his cheeks paling as he looks at his daughter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Gosh, Dad. Look at this andyoutell me why?” Her knuckles land on her hips. “Go ahead and lie to me andsay that you’d have been fine with this. You never listen to what I want. You’d have found some damn way to try and stop it because it isn’t whatyouwant.”

She backs up, and takes my hand. “We’re doing this. That’s why you’re here. So you can either sit down, shut up, and smile, or I’ll ask someone here to give you a ride home.”

---