Page 23 of The Calendar of New Beginnings
He laughed. “Always were a smarty pants. I also heard you agreed to shoot the photos for this calendar she and April have cooked up,” he said, leaning his elbows on the bar.
Since his expression was neutral, she couldn’t get a read on him. “What do you think about it?”
“It’s like a lot of things your mother has set her sights on over the years,” he said with a sigh. “It’s for a good cause and comes from a good place. Personally? Well, I figure the photos of your mother are the closest thing I’m going to get to those boudoir photos I’ve heard about.”
Lucy’s beer went down the wrong pipe, and she coughed violently. “Oh, gross! Did you have to put that thought in my head?”
“When you’ve been married forty years, you can judge me for looking for a little marital spice wherever I can find it,” he said, reaching across the bar and pounding her back.
The whack of his hand inflamed her lingering soreness, and she made a sound of distress before she could stop herself.
His hand froze immediately, and his clever eyes narrowed. “Are you hurt, young lady?”
She continued to sputter, shaking her head.Uh-oh.But he came around the bar and planted himself down on the stool beside her as she coughed into a napkin.
“Don’t make me pull up your shirt in the back and embarrass us both,” he said, putting his hand on her knee.
He sounded way too much like Andy Hale, and she wasn’t sure how to deflect his concern.
“I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her chest. “You have a hand like a meat cleaver.”
“Bullshit. I know my daughter. You wouldn’t return to Dare Valley if something dire hadn’t happened.”
She clutched the beer in her hand. “I was burned out.”
“Don’t make me say bullshit again. You’ve been burned out before. Talk to me.”
Since she knew he would only press her until she caved, she decided to share a vague description of the events. “Fine. Something bad happened in a village where I was working, and I needed time to recover.”
His mouth pursed, and his ears turned red before her eyes—a sure sign he was more than upset. He was livid. “Recover from what?”
“I wasn’t beaten or raped,” she said, putting her hand on top of his. “But I was hurt, and I’m recovering. Please don’t make me talk about it more, and please don’t tell Mom.”
He pulled her close and hugged her, and for a moment, she let her arms curl around him.
“You worry me something fierce, young lady,” he said, his voice rough. “I remind myself you’re your own woman and always will be, but I love you, and your work in all those war zones takes a toll on those who love you too. I don’t say it to make you feel guilty. I only say it because…shit…it gives me some bad moments. Okay?”
“I know it does,” she said softly, helpless in the face of his show of emotion.
He let her go and picked up his beer, downing half the contents. “I can’t promise not to tell your mother.”
“But—”
“You know how this works, Luce,” he said, setting his beer back on the bar top with a clack. “She’s my partner, and you’re our kid. I don’t keep secrets from Ellie. Not even for you.”
No, he never had, and it was something she admired. Most of the time. “I was hoping for a reprieve this one time.”
“Not a chance, kid. But I will do my best to get her to give you some space. If you’ve come home to heal, we’ll do everything we can to support that. You have my word.”
“Oh, Daddy,” she said, feeling uncharacteristically teary-eyed.
“Don’t you dare make me cry, missy,” he said, swiping at his eyes. “But you have to promise to tell me if you need help with anything. I won’t accept anything but a resounding yes from you there.”
As a bargain, it was the best she could hope for. “I promise.”
“Good,” he said, cracking his neck and standing. “Now, how about some fish and chips?”
Lucy tapped her finger in time with the Irish music playing over the speakers to lighten the moment between them. She’d always known her dad worried about her, but he usually didn’t let her see it. “Sounds great.”
