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Because I don’t get it if so. On the outside, Abel isn’t picture-perfect boyfriend material. He’s gruff. Puts offI’ll sleep with your wife and not feel guilty about itvibes. But now I know that’s not the whole truth.
I know Abel intentionally misleads people into thinking he’s a bad guy. But I don’t know why. From what I’ve seen over the past week, he’s an excellent human being. He just doesn’t flaunt it.
His brand of quiet confidence—of generosity that’s as real and unflashy as it gets—is sexy in the extreme.
I run a hand through my hair. I can’t make sense of any of this. I also don’t know what my next move should be. I have to reach out to my brother.
Do I come clean to him? Explain that Abel and I are faking a relationship to give Dad a boost while he goes through cancer treatment? Or will that just piss Tuck off more?
I put my hand on my neck, covering the hickey there. My brother definitely saw it last night. It’s what set him off. If I do come clean, he’s going to wonder why, if I’m not really with Abel, I’m still having sex with him.
I don’t have a good answer. At least one that doesn’t make Tuck go full Hulk on Abel. At this rate, my fake husband is not going to have any face left to bruise.
What does that say about him, that he’s got a black eye and now a bruised jaw? The nose that’s been broken twice? Am I crazy to believe he’s good at his core? That he won’t bring more trouble to my doorstep?
Tuck knows Abel better than anyone. I know my brother loves him. But it’s obvious he doesn’t love him for me.
Do I take his advice? Or do I trust my own opinion?
The sun is up now, transforming the water’s surface into a sheet of gold. I slow my steps to admire the view. The oceangoes on forever, reaching the edges of a sky that’s turning blue.
The dogs are playing in the surf, tails wagging. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen them so happy.
Glancing down the beach, my heart skips when I see a familiar figure walking toward me. It’s a tall man with broad shoulders and tattooed arms. Red T-shirt.
Dad.
I burst into tears. I don’t know why. Relief? Sadness?
At the same time, I cover the hickey on my neck with my hand.Shameless. Abel and I were one-hundred-percent shameless last night, and while I don’t regret a minute of it, I’d rather my dad not see proof of my activities between the sheets.
I walk toward him, his face breaking into a smile as he waves. “Hey-ooo!”
The fact that Dad is in a decent mood even after what happened last night is a good sign.
“Aw, honey.” His smile drops a little when he sees me crying. “What’s wrong?”
I dab my eyes on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “Hey, Dad. I’m just...”Afraid my brother will never talk to me again. Terrified of how sick you’re going to get. Worried I’m falling in love with the wrong guy.
Dad doesn’t wait for me to finish the sentence. He just wraps me in a tight hug, pressing my face into his broad chest.
“These are happy tears, I hope? Because I hear you’re married.”
Despite the burn in my eyes, I laugh. “That was... something else last night, wasn’t it?”
“I’m glad I was there to help.”
“I am too.” I lift my head. “Tuck is livid.”
“He is.” Dad’s eyes toggle between mine. “He’s also exhausted. I think he won’t be quite as upset once he gets alittle rest. Baby gave them a good three-hour stretch earlier this morning after he got home.”
Sighing, I let my head fall back onto Dad’s chest. “He hates me, and I get why. Do you? Hate me?”
“Aw, Jen, I could never hate you. And neither does your brother. He’s just protective—he’s only looking out for you. I actually came out here to make sure you were okay.”
I furrow my brow. “Wait, you?—”
“I texted you and then Abel. Never heard from you, but Abel said you were out with the dogs. Assumed you’d be here.”
