Page 92 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

Ambrose smacks him with the back of his hand, right in the middle of his chest. Harrison crumples a little bit and pouts at the injury. More to his ego than his body, I guess.

“Listen, it was just to—”

“I don’t care why it was!” Ambrose interrupts me, seething.

“Well, you just asked me,” I explain calmly. “If you are not gonna listen to the answer, why ask the question?”

“She has a point,” Harrison smirks.

“I think we should get a reenactment,” Boone adds, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Like, where was she? Right about here?”

I want to giggle, but I know that I shouldn’t. Ambrose seems to be taking this quite hard.

“Listen, baby, she was just trying to fix—”

“I know what she was trying to do!”

Harrison steps forward, raising his hands defensively. I notice that he has put himself between me and Ambrose. Not because Ambrose is a threat to me, but because Harrison feels protective.

Well. Isn’t that nice.

“At least she did something,” Harrison says pointedly. “Now, can we let it go? It really isn’t a big deal.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“She took action,” Harrison adds. “Did you?”

Ambrose’s mouth pops open. “Yeah, well, what was I going to do?”

“I asked you to talk to those guys,” Harrison reminds him in a frustrated growl.

I watch them square off. That happened? I didn’t know anything about it.

“They know who’s in charge,” Ambrose bristles. “They never even see her or anything. How was I supposed to know those women—”

“You couldn’t have known,” Harrison interrupts, letting Ambrose off the hook. “But that shouldn’t stop you from appreciating what Amber just did.”

“Yeah, now all the guys are wondering if she’s a lesbian!” Boone grins.

Ambrose shakes his head in frustration. He scowls at the floor, and finally looks at me. I can see the frustration ebbing from his face, replaced by the man I know. Gentle, kind, real.

“Well, do you feel better?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I really do,” I answer honestly.

He reaches out and brushes my hair back with his fingertips.

“That’s the important thing,” he says softly.

Harrison winks at me. I just shake my head. Boone looks hopeful.

“No, guys, it’s not going to happen,” I scold them.

“Oh, come on!” Boone complains. “Dramatic reenactment! Scene by scene!”

“After the kids go to bed, for sure,” Harrison adds with a leer.

“Nope! Not gonna happen!” I call out as I leave the kitchen.

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