Page 120 of Cast to be Mine

“The man who spent thirty years hating my father. The man who warned you about getting involved with a Sterling. Your father. His house.”

“It’s not a lair,” he teased.

“Not funny.”

He looked impossibly handsome in dark slacks and a fitted button-down, his hair artfully tousled in that way that made my fingers itch to run through it. God, I had such a weird obsession with his hair. I loved tangling my fingers in it.

He kissed me softly. “Ready?”

“No.”

He laughed. “You’ll be fine. They’re going to love you.”

“Easy for you to say. They’re your family.”

“And soon they’ll be yours too.” He took my hand and squeezed. “Trust me.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But as we walked to his car and started the drive to his parents’ house, the anxiety kept building.

“What if they hate me?” I asked.

“They won’t.”

“But what if they do? What if your father takes one look at me and sees my father? What if he spends the whole dinner making passive-aggressive comments about the Sterling family? I’m not going try and convince them my father is a saint, but he is my father.”

Micah reached over and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “We had a long talk. A really long one.”

“And?”

“He knows to behave.” Micah glanced at me, his expression softening. “He also knows you’re not your father. I made that very clear.”

“How did you make it clear?”

“I told him about you. You’re nothing like the person he’s been imagining all these years.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes. “You did?”

He squeezed my hand. “I told him you make me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. And that if he wanted to be part of my life going forward, he needed to give you a real chance.”

“Micah, that’s so sweet.”

He chuckled. “Sweet isn’t what I was going for. Just honest.”

“And what did he say?”

“He agreed. Grudgingly at first, but he agreed.” He smiled. “My father is a lot of things, but he loves his sons. He’s not going to risk losing me over a decades-old grudge.”

I leaned over and kissed his cheek, overwhelmed by how much this man loved me. How much he was willing to fight for us.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Always.”

The Blackwell estate was exactly what I’d expected—sprawling, elegant, and intimidating as hell. We pulled through iron gates and up a winding driveway lined with perfectly manicured hedges. The house itself was stunning. House wasn’t the right word. My father’s estate was huge, but this was definitely in mega-mansion territory.

“This is where you grew up?” I asked, staring up at the place.

“Yes.”