Page 66 of Miss Matched

“By finding him an honest woman,” I clarify.

His dad’s eyes dart from Zac to me, and he gives a slight grin. “Mm-hmm.”

Zac moves around the room, shuffling things into place and cleaning up, tossing soda cans and takeout containers into an empty bag as he clears the coffee table.

“You’re sleeping down here?” Zac points to a blanket and pillow on the couch.

“Those stairs kill my back after the dialysis. Easier to just stay put.”

Zac frowns. “Why won’t you just come stay with me? I could get help, check in on you more often. You shouldn’t be out here all by yourself in this house. What if something happened?”

“Well, then somethin’ would happen,” his dad says flatly.

Now I know where Zac gets his stubbornness.

“Dad,” Zac tries to argue, but he gets cut off.

“Don’t Dad me.” Dan points a finger at the floor. “This is my damn house, and I’m stayin’; there’s nothing else to be said.” He pushes back in his recliner and steadies his breath. “Now do your old man a favor and go grab this girl a glass of water or something. You’re thirsty, aren’t you, dear?”

“I’m fine.”

“Nonsense,” Dan says. “Go.”

He waves Zac away, giving him no choice.

“Come, sit.” Dan waves to the couch, and I take a seat.

Apart from the well-used living room, the home is cared for and gorgeous. There are modern finishes that remind me of Zac’s penthouse, but this place is sprinkled with a lot more decor. Blues and grays. A coastal theme with hints of fishing.

“You’ve got a beautiful home,” I say, taking it all in.

Dan’s eyes don’t leave me as I look around the room.

“Sorry if I’m intruding,” I say, folding a leg under the other to turn my body toward him. “Zac mentioned you weren’t feeling well.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s always lovely to see a fresh face. Especially one as pretty as yours.” Dan shrugs me off. “I’m surprised he mentioned it in the first place. That would require him to admit something’s wrong. My boy is a lot of things—I mean, he’s got my brains and his momma’s looks—but when he doesn’t want to admit something to himself, that thick skull o’ his gets in the way.”

“It must be nice having Zac close by,” I tell him.

Dan folds his hands behind his head and leans back in the recliner. “He’s a good kid.”

I smile.

“I know what you’re thinkin’, but I don’t care if he’s thirty or sixty; he’ll always be my kid.”

“Understood.” I punctuate it with a nod.

“You fish?” I point to the carving of a trout hanging above the fireplace.

Dan sighs. “Not as much as I like anymore. But whenever I can. You ever been?”

“Once or twice,” I say. “But I’m not very good at it.”

He leans forward in his chair and laughs. “Don’t tell him I told ya, but neither is Zac.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’m glad he went into business.” Dan smiles. “But no matter. We still had plenty of good times out on the boat, even if he never did catch nothin’.”

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