Page 24 of Beautiful Crazy

“What? No!”

Shit. She kind of does, though.

Wow. Why am I only just now making that realization?

Have I been watching Emily Willis all these years because she looks like my Emily?

Nooooo…no way. That doesn’t happen.

Does it?

“Do you act out porn with my daughter?”

“Absolutely not, sir.”

“But you’re sleeping with her.”

It’s fucking hot in here.

Is it hot in here?

I’m sweating.

“No, sir. I’m not…I mean…”

Fuuuuck. If we’re serious and living together, wouldn’t we be having sex? How the fuck do I answer this question?

“Oh, so you’re not sleeping with her then? Her decision or yours? If you two are going to get married one day I would suggest taking each other for a spin. Do you not find my daughter attractive, Emmett?”

Shit.

I can’t do this.

I can’t do this to Emily.

With a renewed confidence, I lean back in my seat, look Mr. Chesney square in the eye, and answer his question.

“You know what, sir? I’m sorry I can’t answer your question, but I think what Emily and I do, behind closed doors, in the privacy of our home, is between us and I’ll thank you to respect that. Have I watched porn in my day? Of course. Who hasn’t? But do I love and respect your daughter enough to not talk about our private matters with her father? Also, yes. If Emily would like to share those details, I have nothing to hide and will stand beside her as she tells you, but that is for her to decide, because my father taught me not to kiss and tell when it comes to the women we love.”

And that’s God’s honest truth.

Mr. Chesney mulls my answer over for a minute, rubs his chin between his thumb and forefinger, and nods with a satisfied smile. “Noted.”

Phew.

Taking a deep breath and trying to relax, I nod back to him, but he has another question ready for me.

“If I were to call your ex, would she say good things about you?”

“How the hell should I know? That’s why she’s an ex. And for the record, she cheated on me after six months and that’s the last relationship of any real length that I’ve had since before Emily.”

Also, God’s honest truth.

“Wes?” Mr. Chesney gestures to his son, my frat brother, across the room. “Tag. You’re it.”

Oh great.

As if right on cue, Wes turns and asks me the next question.

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