Page 88 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

Scowling at him, she yelled, “He was going to have your dad arrested. I was trying to make things right.”

“We could have come up with a solution. Why wouldn’t you want my help?”

“Because you have this attitude like things will just work out, but that isn’t how the world works. Sometimes shit happens and you can’t get out of it or fix it.”

“But without you, I’m not okay, Val. I’m half alive. How is that better for me?”

Heart pounding and eyes stinging with unshed tears, she tried to laugh, but her throat clogged. “Come on, you’re fine. You’ll find some nice girl to marry and have kids with—”

He shook her a little. “Are you listening to me? I don’t want to find a nice girl. I don’t want anyone but you. I love you. I love your wildness and your heart. I love that you try hard to be strong, to take care of things without asking for help, but I am telling you, I am here. You have someone. Someone who loves everything about you, from your webbed toes to your bad temper. I told you I wanted to see how far this thing could go, but I think it can go on forever.”

“Stop it.” Her response was weak even to her own ears.

“No, I won’t stop it. From the first minute I saw you, I knew you were mine. You stayed with me. Whether we travel the world, shaving dogs’ butts and eating bad diner food, or stay right here, carving out our own version of perfection, I don’t care. With you, Val, I feel like I’ve finally come home.”

Her chest was so tight she was having trouble drawing a full breath. “You want kids and your dad wants grandkids and—”

Cupping her face in his hands, he whispered, “I promise we will have kids; it doesn’t matter how they come about. We will have them, but even if we don’t, all I need is you, Val. You are my center, my world.”

She closed her eyes, fighting the prickling sensation of tears, and his lips pressed against her closed lids, traveling across her cheeks until they found her mouth, coaxing her to respond.

“Just let go, baby. Let me love you.”

Val felt the tears escaping down her cheeks and choked back a sob. Still, he continued to kiss her, whisper to her.

“I love you, Val. Please don’t keep me waiting long.”

Before she could protest, he was walking back to his truck, and the cold wind hit her wet cheeks like stinging nettles.

She went inside and closed the door, sliding down the wood with her fist in her mouth, trying to close the floodgates. Gus came around the corner and pushed his way onto her lap, and she wrapped her arms around his thick, muscular neck as she cried loudly.

It felt like she sat there for hours; her shoulders and head ached with it. For over half her life, she had held in all her pain and missed out on so much because of one man’s will. She prided herself for being tough, for being a fighter, but she had almost let Edward Willis destroy her.

What the hell had she been thinking? How could she have let him almost win? She’d almost blown her chance at happiness because of that man. She’d tried to play fair, to be good, but it had never fit for her.

He wanted to play dirty? She could do that.

Pushing herself up off the floor, Val grabbed her jacket and headed out the door, a sense of purpose in her step.

She climbed into her Chevy and turned the key, taking the main streets toward the north side of town, where her father’s house sat, large and imposing. It wasn’t even her home anymore, and maybe it never had been. It took warmth and love to make a house a home, right?

She parked in front, behind several Mercedes and BMWs, and walked in through the front door, not bothering to knock.

Theresa caught sight of her and rushed over, her hands out to shoo Val away. “Your father has guests for dinner.”

She tried to smile, but her cheeks felt stiff and her eyes hurt. “I won’t take up much of his time.”

Passing the protesting housekeeper, Val walked through the double doors of the dining room and stood at the end of the table. Several couples sat along each side of the rectangular table, including Kyle Jenner and a date. At the head was her father, his face twisted into a dark scowl.

“Valerie, dear, you look terrible. Why don’t you go into the other room and I’ll be with you shortly?”

“Don’t trouble yourself; this will be over soon,” Val said, putting her hands on the back of the chair at the other end of the table, her mother’s empty seat. “You are a cold bastard, Edward Willis.”

The others in the room gasped and her father opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him.

“I used to think there was something broken in all of us—Caroline, Ellie, and me—because we had everything we could want and yet we still made awful decisions. Caroline coped with men and I coped with anger, but nothing helped because we weren’t getting what we needed from you. You were supposed to be our father. To be there for us. Instead, you sat back and berated us for our horrible choices, but the worst ones we made were because they were things you wanted.”

“Oh, and I suppose I’m responsible for you being arrested for indecent exposure?” Her father sneered at her.

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