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Thankfully, her father seemed to need a few moments to decide what he wanted to eat. Gave her a bit of time to study him where he sat across from her. Dressed in his uniform, he made an intimidating presence. Her father was a handsome man. At fifty-two, he’d only just begun to gray. For his entire life, or at least her entire life, he’d always been a gym-goer, keeping himself in great shape for his position as a police officer was a matter of pride for him. That hadn’t changed after he promoted to detective, and now sheriff. He still had the physique of a much younger man.
Over the years, she’d seen him in uniform countless times, but not as much since he’d been a detective. Now that he was back to wearing a uniform daily, he looked so much more official. Actually, after Joy’s funeral, she hadn’t seen him in it for more than five years. The first time he’d worn it after that dreadful day, Holly had nearly thrown up at the sight of it. The outfit brought her right back to the day she had to see her sister’s dead body.
Holly forced down a swallow of coffee that had suddenly soured in her mouth. Now, the uniform represented a different kind of heartbreak. It was a constant visual reminder that he’d never accept LJ in her life. That she was about to hurt two people who loved her and had already been through so freaking much. She pushed away her coffee cup.
With guilt filling her, she wasn’t positive she’d be able to stomach a bite of food.
“Okay, I’ve decided,” he announced.
Jazz returned, and they placed their orders. Once she was off again, and their menus were gone, there wasn’t anything to focus on but her father and her guilt.
“Holly, I’d like to apologize for the other night.”
Her jaw dropped and she gaped across the booth. Her father sat, staring down into his black coffee. Never in a million years had she expected an apology. Her eyes closed as she took a breath. The apology should have made her feel better. Should have been exactly what she wanted, but instead it only drove the knife deeper into her heart. He was stepping out of character for her and, she was about to gut him. “Thank you, Dad. For saying that,” she said around an arid throat.
Hands around his mug, he glanced up. “I can admit when I’m wrong, Hols. And my reaction was wrong. Over the top. I just…” He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, pausing to scratch his chin. “I just saw that biker so close to you and I lost it. I know I’ve talked to you over the years about how dangerous these motorcycle clubs are, but, honey, you just don’t know until you see it just how downright evil they can be.”
Holly swallowed a painful lump in her throat. “LJ’s a good guy, Dad. He’s helped me out a lot since I moved in. Never been anything but a gentleman.” A dirty-talking, sex god of a gentleman, but they could skip that part. “He’s been a good f-friend.” Saying the word in relation to LJ made her want to vomit. She could never be just friends with him. Not after last night.
His head moved from right to left. “Honey, he’s not. You’ve always been sweet. Always seen the best in people, which is wonderful, but there’s a downside to that as well. It makes you naïve, vulnerable to being used and manipulated. It happened to your sister, and it can happen to you. Just because LJ helped you carry some boxes, doesn’t make him a good guy.”
“Dad—” The mention of Joy had her heart clenching. But it wasn’t the same. Her sister had been a twelve-year-old, unable to make adult choices. And that was the heart of their problem right there. Her parents still saw her at that age.
He held up a hand. “No, Holly, let me finish. That club is an outlaw club. Do you know what that means?”
Her stomach rolled as she nodded. “Yes. I know what it means.”
“Pretty much by definition, it means they’re criminals, honey. They are not good men. None of them. Do you understand?”
“Sure, Dad.” There she went again, taking the easy way out instead of standing up for what she believed. What she wanted. That kind of behavior had to stop. Otherwise, she’d blink and be forty years old, stuck in a miserable marriage because she’d attached herself to someone her father chose. The last two men she’d dated, one for almost a year back in college, had been his choice. Both fizzled out long before she’d gotten the guts to end the relationships. “Look, Dad—”
“One sec, Holly, let me finish. I think you should find a new apartment.”
