Page 77 of Beneath the Stars (Sugarlake 1)

I give him a sheepish smile, my cheeks heating. “Sorry, just makin’ lunch plans. What were we talkin’ about?”

I haven’t really forgotten, but I’m hoping he d

rops the subject. I’m tired enough from having to live my life, I don’t really want to keep talking about it, too.

“Nothing important. I gotta get back to work.” He taps his knuckles on the top of the desk. “Try to get some rest, yeah?” He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

I don’t see him again, and I don’t look for him as I leave to head to the rec.

The quickie with Logan is just what I need to take the edge off. Easy. No strings, no hurt. Just what the doctor ordered.

The high from our tryst lasts through the rest of my workday. It isn’t until I’m walking through the grocery store, it starts to wear off. I dread having to stay up all night worrying about Daddy sneaking out. I cannot wait for Eli to get to town. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. Daddy needs help and I’m not fit to be giving it to him. I’m trying to get my life together, but for some reason, I keep slamming myself against the walls of his animosity.

I decide on burgers for dinner, hoping he isn’t already three sheets to the wind. Maybe I can convince him to man the grill—remind him there’s something he’s capable of doing other than drinking himself into oblivion.

By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m completely drained and wishing for my bed. I pinch my cheeks as I stare in the rearview mirror, trying to get some color back in my face. This is as good as it’s gonna get. There’s nothing I can do to hide the dark circles that line my eyes, or the exhaustion seeping from my pores.

I load the groceries into my arms before heading to the front door. I realize I’ll have to ring the bell since I don’t have a free hand to turn the handle, and I send up a prayer that Daddy is still coherent enough to answer. Let it be a good night. Let it be a good night. I shift on my feet, trying to ignore the weight of the bags. When the door opens, my mind goes blank.

It isn’t Daddy who answers, it’s Chase.

He grins. “Hi.”

“Hi. What are you doin’ here?”

He opens the screen door and takes the groceries from my arms. I’m too stunned by his presence to argue. He turns around, loaded up with my groceries, and walks down the hallway. I follow him, mouth gaping. Is he just gonna ignore my question?

“Chase, what are you doin’ here?” I repeat once we make it to the kitchen. He sets the bags down on the counter and spins to face me.

“Thought I’d drop by, keep your dad company.” He says it so casually, like the words coming out of his mouth are completely normal.

I twist around, searching for Daddy. “Where is he?”

“We’re hanging out on the back patio.”

“You’re just… hangin’ out?”

“Yep.”

Daddy walks in through the back door and I turn my attention to him. “Hi, Daddy.”

He makes eye contact and I don’t miss the fact that his eyes aren’t glassy yet.

“What’s for dinner?” he asks. I get no greeting, but that doesn’t surprise me. I ignore the sting the gruffness of his voice causes. I miss the sweet timbre he used to get whenever he saw me.

“I thought we could make burgers. You up for some grillin’?” I smile wide, hoping he’s in an amicable mood.

He’s already shaking his head, but before he can say anything Chase cuts in.

“Hell yeah. I hope there’s enough for me, too.” He smirks. “Think you can teach me a thing or two, old man?”

To my shock, I see a grin pull at Daddy’s lips. What in the world?

“There’s an art to grillin’, boy. Not sure you’re cut out for it.” He looks him up and down.

“Lucky I know you, then.” Chase glances at me and winks. “Unless you’re not up for the challenge.”

My eyes spring back and forth between them. Daddy mutters something about checking the propane and disappears out the back again. I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen, gobsmacked. What the heck is going on?

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