“Boys,” he greets. He claps Liam on the shoulder first then reaches over to give me the same perfunctory treatment; a quick, friendly slap that carries no actual warmth.
“Good to see you,” he adds like an afterthought.
“You too,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral.
He drops down into the seat across from us.
He doesn’t bother with menu that’s placed down in front of him, doesn’t bother acknowledging the hostess telling him about the drink menu before he’s shooing her away and flagging down the nearest waitress with a flick of his fingers.
“Steak, medium rare, and a bourbon,” he says once she comes over.
She blinks. “Sir, I’m not?—”
“Make that drink a double,” Carson says, flashing her a smile.
She eyes Liam and me before pulling out her notepad and jots it down without so much as a raised brow, he’s exactly the kind of customer you can tell she’s seen a hundred times before in a place like this—entitled beyond belief—and drifts away.
Only then does Carson turn his attention back to us.
Now that what he deems as the “important stuff” is handled, we can finally get back to the pleasantries. “So. How was the cabin? Heard you got food poisoning, Liam. That sucks.”
Liam quirks an eyebrow at me, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s resisting a smirk that says,Really? That’s what you decided to go with?
I lift one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and turn back to Carson. “Well, you missed a hell of a weekend, I’ll say that much.”
Carson leans back in his chair, a casual sense of curiosity washing over him. “What’d you all get up to before that?”
And that’s when Liam, God bless his beautiful, clueless,suicidalass, opens his mouth. “Well, after Holly got snowed in with us, we weren’t sure what to do. But we ended up taking real good care of he?—”
My boot slams into his shin under the table, sharp enough to make him wince.
He jerks back from the hit, his glass nearly toppling over when the table shakes.
His face tightens together in a soundless curse, and he shoots me a look that is pure confusion.
Carson, oblivious to the landmine Liam just came within inches of stepping on and detonating, chuckles.
“Holly? Oh, right. Surprised she managed to get caught up in that storm. She wasn’t too much trouble, I hope?”
“Not at all,” I say quickly.
He smirks, settling back into his chair.
“Well, you’d better have been on your best behavior with her. She’s my little girl, after all.”
Just like that, the match to the powder keg is lit.
I can see it in Liam’s face.
The slight clench of his jaw, and the faint flare of his nostrils. He’s holding himself back, but the anger is there, simmering, bristling from Carson’s words.
Carson loves totalklike a protective dad.
He loves to drop lines like that whenever he can, puff up his chest, and act like the role hasn’t been abandoned for years.
Reality is that he’s been a ghost for most of Holly’s life.
I remember the stories back then about the ugly custody battle and the shouting matches in front of the lawyer’s offices while they fought over custody and child support payments.