There’s no teasing in Mikayla’s tone, and I can feel her trembling when I pull her against me. My father struck a nerve with her, and I’m guessing it has to do with her mother.
“You care about him,” my dad says, regarding her with a tilt of his head.
“Of course, I do,” she says without question. “He’s kind and opened his home to me when I needed help. He’s a good man. You shouldn’t say things like that about him. He’s your son.”
My father raises a brow at that and looks at me; his matching baby blues directed at me.
He chuckles. “Well, I can assure you, my son is many things; reliable is one of them, but kind is generally not a word we use to describe him,” my dad says.
I know he’s teasing, but Mikayla doesn’t. My father is known for his dry sense of humor.
Mikayla grabs my hand and squeezes.
“Dad, Mikayla doesn’t know your humor. Sweetheart, my dad is just giving me a hard time,” I tell her.
“Oh.” A dark blush forms on her face, moving down her throat to her chest. “I’ll just… excuse me,” she whispers before standing up.
She walks, practically runs, toward the river without looking back.
“Well, you’ve got yourself a little defender in that girl,” he says proudly.
“She didn’t know you were joking around,” I reply, slightly worried.
My dad just nods his head.
“She just lost her father.” I keep my voice low so she won’t hear us talking about her.
My father blanches. “Well, fuck,” my dad mutters. “Really?”
“Yeah, and her mom and her… I’m figuring it all out, just lay off a bit until she’s comfortable,” I tell my father. “You’re very dry.” I remind him.
To my amazement, my father stands up and walks toward her. I’m not about to watch from the sidelines, so I get to my feet and follow.
“Hey, darlin’” my dad says as he approaches her.
“I’m sorry,” Mikayla says. “I’ve normally a good sense of humor. I’m not usually this sensitive. And even I make fun of Caine for being grumpy.” She places both hands on her flushed cheeks. “I called him gramps when we first met!”
Her eyes widen at her confession.
“Well, I can’t say I’m offended you’re defending my son,” he says. “I’m just sorry I upset you. My son is definitely a curmudgeon.”
“I’m being ridiculous,” she says, waving my dad off. “Today has been a weird day.”
My dad turns and looks at me with a scowl. “What did you do?” he asks me, his tone low.
Mikayla reaches out and grabs his arm. “Nothing, Caine did nothing. It’s not about him.”
My brow furrows, and I walk up to Mikayla, cupping her cheeks and lifting her face to regard me.
“What happened?” I ask, my tone brisk.
Her eyes dart to my dad.
“Okay, well, I’ll leave you two, but your mama wants you for dinner,” Dad says.
“We have plans tonight. I told her we had a day planned,” I say with exasperation.
My dad rolls his eyes. “You already spoke to her today?”
