Page 46 of The Wild Card
Molly, your daddy issues are showing.
I clear my throat, which suddenly feels drought-dry. “How did he know?”
“I’m sure everyone in my family has questions or suspicions since I’d been with them moments before you absconded with me at the festival.”
“Absconded?”
“Do you have a better word?” Collin smirks and doesn’t give me time to answer. “Didn’t think so. Anyway. Tank called me on it like he’s been calling me on everything I’ve ever tried to get away with. Maybe we should sit them all down together. When were y’all planning to head back to Austin?”
“Tomorrow.”
“When are you flying home? And when will you come back to start work?”
I smooth the napkin over my lap until it’s perfectly flat. “I’m not going back to Kansas.”
Collin’s brow furrows. “Why not? What about all your stuff? Don’t you have a car you’ll need to drive down?”
All very reasonable, practical questions. My answer, however—which is that I’m scared that if I go home, I won’t be able to leave—would not sound reasonable or practical. It screams unhealthy relationship. And it makes me feel childish.
Like, what adult woman can’t just stand up to her father?
Me. At least, not face-to-face. Not yet. But I’m hoping this move is the start to my emotional emancipation.
Collin is still looking at me, patiently waiting for me to answer his questions.
I know I shared a little about my family last night with him, but a liquor-fueled admission is different than a bright-morning confession about my issues with my dad.
So, I change the subject instead. “Were you bothered when Chase started dating Harper? I’m just wondering how everyone will react when we talk to them. I mean, I know it’s different since we’re not really dating,” I add quickly in a lower voice.
Am I imagining it, or does Collin deflate a little? He clears his throat and stretches a little in the seat as though the booth is suddenly too small.
“Right.” He runs a hand over his trimmed beard before answering.
“I wasn’t upset, but then, we all knew Chase was simping for Harper foryearsbefore he admitted it. By that time, he was already like our bonus brother. We would have been more upset if hehadn’tdone something about it.”
My heart seemed to seize up at the casual use of the wordsbonus brother.
The Grahams folded my brother into their family years ago. I don’t think he and I have had a phone call since where their names didn’t come up. They were like this legendary family to me—and the feeling didn’t subside after I met them at Chase’s wedding. They’re all sonice. Not to mention so attractive, with the kind of charisma that makes every head in the room turn on a swivel.
And the Grahams threw my brother right into their ranks with good-natured teasing—which sometimes looks like mild physical violence—and a kind of unconditional love and support that almost makes my mouth water. Even now, sitting acrossfrom Collin in this diner booth, I can feel the intense desire to belong. To be invited into the circle.
Which is not the same as forcing my way in by fake-dating Collin. I’m not someone they’ve included so much as an intruder who broke in.
Thinking about all this makes me feel extra guilty about the whole situation. Like I’m not just using Collin for my job but to plug some kind of hole in my leaky boat.
He’s just opening his mouth to say something when out of nowhere, a dark-haired man in a suit appears beside the booth, grinning as he looks between us.
“Good morning.” The man effortlessly hijacks our conversation as he removes his suit jacket, tossing it over the booth before squeezing in next to Collin. “Thayden Walker. I’m the Graham family lawyer. You must be Molly. Didn’t we meet at Chase and Harper’s wedding?”
Thayden looks to be in his mid-to-late thirties with a dark beard to match his hair and a smile with charm that could rival Collin’s. I shake his hand, amused by the way Collin is glaring at him.
“Probably? I’m not sure.”
“Go ahead,” Collin grumbles. “Interrupt our breakfast.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Thayden says. “This is what happens when you stop returning my calls. I make house calls.”
“This is a diner not a house,” Collin points out.
