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He moved a step closer and gripped her chin, keeping her face tilted toward his. “I need to know you can be a good girl, kitten. I can’t have you running off like this.”
She swallowed hard. “I can be good.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded as best she could with her chin still in his grip.
He let go and his expression softened. “That’s my girl. Come on, let’s get you back where it’s safe.”
Safe. Yes, that was what she needed.
John would keep her safe.
CHAPTER 20
Marigold
Dishes clinked in the background at the Copper Kettle and the whole place smelled like buttery toast. My parents had invited me to breakfast and my mom sat across from me dreamily gazing at the menu while my dad had his arm around the back of her chair.
“What sounds good, lovebird?” Dad asked.
“I was just thinking about that time we had blueberry pancakes at that place near Yellowstone. Do you remember that?”
“I do. That was a fun trip.”
“Was that the time we saw a moose?”
“No, that was different.”
She glanced at him. “Where did we see the moose?”
“Banff.”
“Oh, right.” Mom’s eyes got a faraway look. “It was so pretty there. I’d like to paint it.”
“That can probably be arranged.” Dad’s gaze moved to me. “What about you, flower? Blueberry pancakes?”
“No, I was thinking an omelet.”
The server came back to our table with a coffee carafe in hand. She topped off Dad’s mug with a smile. “What can I get going for you folks?”
“My wife and I will have blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon,” Dad said. “And my lovely daughter would like the cheese omelet.”
“Actually,” I said, “the pancetta omelet, please.”
Dad gestured toward me. “What she said.”
“Got it.” The server smiled again. “Coming right up.”
Mom was still staring off into the distance. Probably remembering the scenery of Banff and imagining how she’d capture it on canvas. I wondered if she really wanted blueberry pancakes. She hadn’t protested, but she hadn’t been paying attention either.
I tried not to bristle at the fact that Dad had ordered for me, too. He ordered for Mom all the time and she never seemed to mind. But I didn’t need him doing the same for me.
“How is everything at the salon?” Dad asked. “Any luck finding another stylist?”
“To be honest, I haven’t been looking. But everything is fine.”
I could tell by the way his brow furrowed he didn’t believe me. “The right person isn’t going to just walk in one day. You need to at least advertise.”
