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I licked my lips, trying to get my thoughts in order, then shook my head to try to clear it. “Ummm.” I hesitated. “I’m ready when you are.”

He nodded once, then caught my water bottle which he’d gotten for me upon return from the restaurant. “Let’s go.”

We fell into step together, and as we passed the large air-conditioned kennels he had on the side of the cabin, I watched Al through the side windows as we moved.

I was so intent on watching the dog that I didn’t notice that Laric had shifted slightly until I’d all but ran into his body.

“Sorry,” I said, starting to push myself away from him slightly. “I was looking at Al.”

He hummed and caught my hand—something I’d noticed he’d been doing a lot lately—and guided me the rest of the way down the path toward his father’s place.

“You do this a lot?” I asked curiously.

He shrugged. “When I want. I don’t know if that’s a lot or not. I swim quite a bit, but sometimes I just go to the lake and do that. If the lake is too cold to swim in that day, or I don’t feel like making that far of a hike to get there, I just do it in Lynn’s pool.”

“So tell me,” I said hesitantly. “Do you like the idea of him being your dad? Are you upset with him? I got the impression at dinner that you were more or less a little bit ambivalent with him.”

He sighed. “It’s a sore subject, I guess. I mean, he could’ve told me at any time. Why didn’t he? Then I think about how much I shared with Lynn about hating my original parents. How if they’d just been there for me, I might have made a lot different life decisions. You know? Then I think, well I can’t blame him for not telling me that. Plus, he really did have no control over anything. And from his standpoint, I certainly looked like I was doing okay. I could’ve told anyone at any time, and he would’ve gotten me out of there. He had that much of a pulse on my situation. I had Hunt dig for me a couple of months ago, and my dad had links to almost all of my comings and goings when I was a kid. He had a line on my library card. Knew when I went and checked out books. Returned them. He knew what I liked and disliked. He watched me play football games. Hell, he’d even had a hand in buying my first bike for me, if not second-handedly. He kind of ‘sent’ the listing for the bike to me via a Facebook ad, practically bought it himself, and then discounted it enough that I could afford it. That’s not something a father that didn’t care about his kid would do.”

He smiled at my next words.

“It sounds like he loved you. It sounds like he did everything he could to ensure you had a good life, and he didn’t want to interrupt what he thought was a good one,” I replied softly.

“So that’s where I’m at,” he told me. “I’m mad that he fucked around and didn’t tell me what the hell was going on. And I’m happy that I have a father in my life at all. I just… I’m not sure.”

“Have you tried to get to know him?” I asked as he stepped onto a concrete path that led up to the pool/spa area.

“Not really,” he hesitated. “What we do for a living? We have some pretty tough shit going on right now. It’s hard to find time to sleep, let alone get to know someone.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s the biggest excuse I’ve ever heard. You’re not doing anything right now. And you’ve done pretty well at getting to know me.”

“True,” he agreed as he tossed the towels onto a lounger that was beside the hot tub we were about to get into. “Lights on or off?”

“Off,” I answered.

On would mean that I would have to stare at his chest some more, and I didn’t quite have control over myself quite yet. I didn’t want to embarrass myself.

He grunted something that sounded like ‘thank God’ and said, “How about your shirt? You need help with that?”

I licked my lips and said, “No. I think I can handle getting it off. The therapist helped me by showing me a few hacks.”

He’d been helping me on and off with my shirts for a week now, hence why I’d been hanging out in his shirts. They were easier to get on, while also keeping me semi-covered as he did so.

Today, I’d worn my own shirt since we’d been going out of the house. He’d had to dress me in the tank top, and to wear the tank top, I’d had to put on a bra that you couldn’t see with the cut of the top.

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