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“How did I not know any of this?”
“Because your ma likes the version where I nearly crapped my pants asking her dad to take her on a date.”
I couldn’t imagine Pop being scared of anybody.
“Plus, she doesn’t like to admit I was right. She married me, didn’t she?” He smirked, but he didn’t give a damn about being right or wrong. He just wanted Ma happy.
“You won.”
“Luckiest bastard on the planet.” He rolled down the window. “Someday a woman is gonna knock you for a loop. And when she does, you give her flowers every chance you get. It doesn’t seem like much, but it makes up for the things you can’t give her.”
I tilted my head to the side. There were always fresh flowers at the house. Didn’t matter if Pop was dog-tired after a long shift, he never forgot Ma’s flowers.
“I hated listening to my old man, especially now when I see how right he was about everything. But trust me. Flowers. She’ll be yours forever.”
He’d toldme that not long before I’d met Beau. Looking back, I saw how right he was. Ma was his forever, but I wasn’t sure if the flowers had anything to do with it.
Back when Beau and I had first gotten together, I’d been too scared to get her flowers. What if Pop was right and they made her mine forever? What if she was stuck with me?
Had anybody ever given her flowers?
The thought irritated me more than I cared to admit.
As I looked over at her pretty profile, part of our story was the same as my parents’. She’d knocked the daylights out of me from the minute we met.
I never dreamed she’d be my wife. The selfish bastard in me didn’t care that it hadn’t been all romance to get there.
And that damn question that kept rearing its ugly head sparked again.
What if I could keep her?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Beau
“Not Manhattan.Home.”
I loved my family and all the chaos at Teague’s. But I just wanted Cal.
His brows dipped, but he turned in what I hoped was the direction of his apartment. I hadn’t gotten the reaction I’d hoped for when I showed him my new identification.
I hadn’t realized how much I wanted him to be happy about it.
He hadn’t seemed mad exactly, but . . . he wasn’t glad.
It was like a wall had gone up between us after last night. He hadn’t been as cold at dinner as I’d expected, but I felt the separation.
Hated it.
And I intended to erase it.
Because whether Garrett Calhoun knew it or not, I wasn’t giving him up this time. I wanted his name, but more than that, I wanted his love. Because even though he suggested he’d never stopped loving me, he was questioning himself. He was wound so tight at the moment, so angry at himself. He'd saved me. He'd protected me from Alex’s attacks. How could he blame himself?
What I felt for Garrett was the same as it had been all those years before. Love. I’d let him go before without a fight because I’d been blindsided and hurt. But only a fool wouldn’t do everything she could to keep him. It had taken having my head rammed in a door to realize that, but no one ever said I wasn’t hardheaded.
What I didn’t know was if stealth was the best way to handle Cal or all guns blazing.
I hated to admit it, but I was scared. What if it was too late for us? What if I couldn’t show him this was what we were destined for?
