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“This is typically the part where boyfriends say they love their girlfriend back.”
I stutter for the right words. “I love Carolina. She’s the most amazing person I know.”
My answer doesn’t satisfy him. “I’ll ask again, what are your intentions with my daughter?”
“For us to be happy.”
He leans back in his chair, his eyes suspicious, and points at me, moving his finger back and forth. “Guys like you, they don’t date the preacher’s daughter.”
I can’t help but scowl. “Carolina is more than just a preacher’s daughter, and I don’t think it’s fair to put that label on her.”
Bobby becomes my favorite person when he interrupts us again with our food. Dude is getting a good-ass tip from me this morning.
Hopefully, Rick worries more about his food than talking to me.
I splash hot sauce onto my Spanish omelet and take a large bite.
“Tell me why Carolina dropped out of school,” Rick urges, not even giving his pancakes a glance.
I swallow down my bite. “She didn’t feel it was right for her.”
“She had no issues her freshman year.” He takes a drink of coffee and wipes his mouth. “Out of nowhere, she decided to drop out and move home. Was it for you? Did something happen to her?”
I understand his concern. I had one hundred questions for Carolina. She answered some, lied about some, and refused to answer the others.
“Carolina hasn’t told me the entire truth on why she moved home,” I honestly answer. “Whatever she’s going through, I hope she’ll open up to us when she’s ready.”
He frowns. “Don’t break my daughter’s heart, Rex.”
“I won’t.”I’ll try not to.
“And I expect the next time I catch you sneaking out of her room, it’s after you’re married,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “My daughter has values.”
With that, he pours an excessive amount of syrup on his pancakes and takes a large bite.
* * *
I havea doughnut in one hand and a coffee in the other as I stroll into Carolina’s hotel room.
“Rise and shine,” I call out.
After my wonderful and not-at-all-awkward breakfast with her father, I ran to my room and showered.
Carolina yawns while sitting up in the bed. “Quit being so perky.” Another yawn. “It’s too early for that.” Her hair is a tangled mess, there’s dried slobber on the side of her mouth, and even with the shower, there’re still blotches of mascara under one eye. She’s a gorgeous, hot mess.
I hold the doughnut bag and coffee up. “I brought food for your hungover self. I’d be nice to this perky dude.”
“All right,” she groans. “Thank you. Carbs is just what the doctor ordered.”
“Or what the preacher ordered.” I hand her the bag and a napkin before placing the coffee on the nightstand next to her. “Your dad picked it out for you.”
She stills, just as she’s about to take a bite of the doughnut. “My dad?”
I plop down on the edge of the bed by her feet. “Yep. We had breakfast.”
“You had breakfast with my dad,” she drags out.
“Sure did. It was quite a blast, let me tell you. We drank mimosas and took tequila shots. He sure enjoyed the hair of the dog.”
