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Will turned off the burner and spun around, startled to see me sitting at the counter. His eyes widened in shock. “Hey, I didn’t hear you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk in place. “You can bother me anytime.”

“How much longer until dinner?” I tipped my nose up and took a whiff. “Smells good.”

“Surprised I can cook?”

“Yeah, actually. Mia told me Ethan used to wait on you hand and foot. Your mom, too.”

“Hey, I’m no Iron Chef, but I can make simple shit like meatloaf. One time I made a turkey with all the fixings.”

My eyebrows rose at his words. “You cooked a turkey?”

“Yeah. One Thanksgiving, our flight got cancelled because of a snowstorm. It bummed Mia not to see our parents. It was her first holiday without our parents. So I cooked dinner for us.”

I smiled. “You’re a good brother.”

“I try.”

“You’ve always looked out for Mia. I like that about you. Your behavior with women and in public leaves much for me to desire. But you’re a good guy.”

He flashed a genuine smile. “A compliment. I’ll take it.”

The doorbell rang, and I startled at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” I offered. “You should put on a shirt.”

Will smirked, running his hand down his bare chest. “Afraid whoever’s at the door will want a piece of this?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, my God. Go put a shirt on, you arrogant ass.”

As I turned my back, he said, “Is that any way to talk to your husband?”

The bell dinged again.

I raised my hand as I walked toward the front door. “Go get dressed, husband. We have company.”

Will headed toward the bedroom as I opened the door. My jaw dropped at the sight of my father on the other side. He had dark hair combed into place, his suit pressed to perfection, polished and with an air of class and sophistication.

“Hey, Dad,” I muttered. “What are you doing here?”

He shoved the newspaper in his hand at my chest. “You got married in Vegas? And to some playboy hockey player, of all people. Please tell me this is a joke.”

I leaned against the door and held out my hand. “No, it’s not a joke. Come in, so we can talk.”

His top lip quivered in anger as our eyes met. He shook his head. “I’m disappointed, Clarke. My only daughter… How could you embarrass yourself like this?”

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” I lied.

He stepped inside, inspecting the place with suspicion. I closed the door and followed him into the living room, where we sat on the couch.

“We’re having a wedding ceremony and reception for friends and family next week. I was hoping you would walk me down the aisle.”

“Hello,” Will said from behind us. “I’m Will.” He stopped beside my dad, his hand extended. “And you must be…”

“Her father,” Dad spat with fire behind his words. “And you must be the jerk off who talked my daughter into marrying you.”

Will lowered his hand to his side. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard about me—”

Dad dropped a stack of newspaper articles he’d printed onto the coffee table. “Seems you dragged my precious daughter into some scheme, and she’s not playing, boy. So you better get this marriage annulled before I find out the truth.”

“Dad, that’s not happening,” I protested. “We wanted to get married.”

“Please,” he grunted. “You expect me to believe you would get married to this idiot after the shit you went through with Sean and the divorce. Not a chance. And to get married without your mother there? She’s heartbroken.”

“Really? Because I talked to her the day after the wedding, and she sounded fine to me.”

“She lied.” My dad rose from the couch. “Get this marriage annulled, Clarke. No way in hell you’re staying married to this clown.”

“Mr. Murphy,” Will interjected, and I cringed at that name leaving his lips, showing how little he knew about me.

“My name isn’t Murphy, boy.” He got in Will’s face, and I prayed neither of them was dumb enough to throw a punch. “If you knew anything about my daughter, you would know that she took her mother’s last name after the divorce.”

“Dad, please.”

“I will expose your lies,” my dad promised, “and when I do, whatever career you have left is over.”

Will pressed his lips together, looking to me for help. He did not know how to handle my father. In all honesty, neither did I. We’d had a tough relationship for most of my life. He would shower me with money and gifts, but he was never there for me physically or emotionally. That was the reason I took my mom’s last name instead of his after the divorce.

“Dad, stop it.” I gripped his bicep and pulled him away from Will. “We’re in love. This marriage is real. I’m not filing for an annulment, so if you don’t like it, you don’t have to come to the wedding.”

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