Page 166 of Swept for Forever
Fuck yeah. We’d made love there more times than I could count.
The first time, it had given me pause. But I’d do anything for her. It was her first, and there was no way I was going to ruin it. Even when I suggested the bed, it was only to make sure she was comfortable.
She continued, “You trusted me with that space. With the part of you that remembers. And you let something new grow over it. Don’t let him pull you back under. Do it for me. For us.”
I nodded, my breath shuddering. “You’re right.”
“Good. Now go back out there and ask him to stay for dinner.”
“What? No.” I shook my head. “Otter?—”
“Let him stay, Dom.” Her eyes gleamed. “Let’s show him how we do it in Buffaloberry Hill.”
Damn her.
And damn how much I loved her.
I kissed her hard, thanking her the only way I knew how.
When I stepped back into the dining room, my father was standing awkwardly, halfway to the door.
“You’re lucky I’d do anything she asks,” I said.
“I apologize, Dom. To you, to her.”
“She wants you to stay and have dinner with us.”
He opened his mouth, probably to refuse, but Autumn stepped forward, all grace and stubbornness wrapped in denim and sunshine.
“Please, Mr. Powell,” she said gently.
A muscle jumped in his cheek. Just a flicker.
But he stayed.
The doorbell rang again, and this time, it was the Buffaloberrians.
Elia and Claire, their arms linked, laughter already tucked in their pockets, Maya and Noah, teasing each other before they even crossed the threshold, and Logan and his wife, Riley, looking like they’d just ridden straight out of a Marlboro ad.
I introduced my father—Gideon Powell, meet the people who know how to live—and left him standing there, smiling against the tide of handshakes and easy conversation. Then I headed back to the kitchen to finish what I’d started.
Pots clanged one last time, and plates lined the counter, loaded with good-looking food. Lulu circled the table, lobbying hard for her portion.
I kept half an eye on the gathering behind me.
It didn’t take long.
I watched it happen, the way my friends folded him in as if he’d always belonged. Elia poured him a drink, Logan lobbed a joke dry enough that even Dad’s guard slipped, and Maya and Riley pulled him into a conversation about the town’supcoming fair, talking about the worst thing that could happen at a wheelbarrow race.
Meanwhile, Otter wove through the group with a tray of canapés, bragging loudly that she’d made them all herself. She turned to me and flashed a wicked wink just as she handed Dad one.
Yeah, I let her get away with that.
And my father?
He kept quiet that night, no grandstanding and no holding court like he might’ve done back in California. He just listened, ate, and smiled once or twice.
It wasn’t a full transformation. But it was something. A crack in the walls he’d spent a lifetime building.
