Page 60 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

He patted me on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. Now where's my beer?"

I got us each a beer and we went into the living room. I thought about turning on the TV, but I knew I needed to talk with Dunk to let him know how I needed to focus on Miranda and the baby for a while.

"Thank God you are so good at managing the gems because I need to dedicate time to making sure Miranda and the baby have everything they need."

"Of course." His brow furrowed as he took a sip of his beer. "What is the deal with you and Miranda?"

"She hates my guts. And with good reason."

"Is she going to try and keep you from the baby?"

I shook my head, knowing that she would prefer for me to be out of her and the baby's life, but she wasn't spiteful like Janine. She would put the child before her own needs, something Janine never did. "She'd prefer if I stayed out of the picture, but that's not going to happen."

"For all your faults, Brett, you are a good father. As Lindsay's friend, she must know that."

"Her father said something similar to me today."

Dunk let out a loud bark of a laugh. "Oh, my God, man, you got a talking to by her father like a teenage boy on a first date."

My cheeks heated with embarrassment. "I did. But I deserved it. I was really shitty to her, Dunk."

"I see that you feel guilty about that. Is the fact that she hates you a problem?"

"Yes, it's a big problem.” I shook my head as all those crazy feelings in my chest swirled again. I didn't completely understand what they were, only that they represented my need to be with Miranda. "You know that saying about how little boys who like a girl pull on their pigtails?"

He nodded.

"I was like that. Only much worse. I couldn't deal with the things I was feeling, and I said the worst things possible. I'm ashamed of it, and because of it, I've ruined everything."

Dunk studied me again. "Are you saying you’re in love with her?"

I shrugged. "I don't know if it's love. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop wanting her. Is that love?"

Dunk shrugged. "How the hell do I know? But it sounds like something close to it. And if that's the case, I know you'll do what needs to be done to make things up to her, and maybe she'll forgive you."

"I don’t know. I can’t imagine her ever forgiving me." I couldn’t get the image of her pale and stricken face from my mind. I was sure on my deathbed, that was the vision I’d leave this world with on my trip to hell.

"What did you say?"

“It was bad." So bad that I didn't want to repeat it, even to Dunk. Neither had I told Lindsay the heinous details. I'd only said that I had behaved badly, and it made sense that Miranda would hate me. I hated myself for it and hoped that over time, Miranda's hate for me would lessen.

"So, what's next?" Dunk took a swig of his beer.

"Next, I will do what I can to take care of Miranda and the baby."

"Maybe you should send her flowers and candy or something."

It was a thought except for the fact that there was no amount of flowers or chocolate in the world that could make up for what I had done. Still, maybe there were some small gestures that I could do that would help soften her to me.

I pulled my phone out, searching my list for the art gallery owner.

"What are you doing?"

"Instead of flowers and candy, I think I'm going to buy her a piece of art."

"Does she like art?"

"She likes anything that speaks to or creates history." It was a dumb idea, but since I had no good ones, this would have to do. I’d lusted for Miranda practically from the moment I bumped into her. But I’d fallen for her over long discussions of history, art, and life. I couldn’t possibly know if she’d felt anything beyond lust for me, but if she had, the best way to rebuild her trust and respect was by connecting to her through her passions.

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