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I meet my father’s smiling eyes.
“Thank you.”
He grips both of my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. His expression changes to one of total seriousness.
“I want you to know something.” His voice is thick in a way that tells me he’s getting emotional. “You never needed to prove anything to me.”
I dip my head, but his eyes chase mine, demanding without words that I continue to meet his stare.
“You’ve been my son since the day I met you. There’s nothing you ever had to prove or accomplish to earn your last name.”
Warm comfort starts in my chest and spreads throughout the rest of my body. Even though deep down, I always knew this, I never realized how much I needed to hear him say it.
“You’re my son. Just as much as Sam and Taylor,” he says of my younger brother and sister. He cups the back of my neck. “Don’t ever forget that. You have a problem like this and you don’t come to me immediately, I’m going to break my foot off in your ass.”
I grin. “I don’t need to involve you in every problem,” I stubbornly reply.
He lightly punches my shoulder. “No, you have a whole fucking family who will go to war for and with you if we need.” His voice loses its playfulness, letting me know he’s serious. “The next time you wait to come to me, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Yes, sir.”
He pats my neck a few times before stepping away. “Go home to your woman. Because I’m damn sure going home to mine. Oh, she told me to tell you to have your ass at your uncle and aunt’s barbecue—”
“This weekend,” I finish for him. “I know. I told Uncle Josh I’d be there. I remember.”
He smiles and claps the side of my face before heading to his car. A beat later, I’m climbing into mine and heading to see the only person I want to see every night when I get home.
CHAPTER27
Monique
I lay my head against the headrest and take in Diego’s profile. His perfectly trimmed beard outlines his strong jaw to perfection. The muscles in my stomach tighten as I picture his beard wet from the moisture in between my legs.
My knees pull together from the sensations that start in my core. The movement catches his attention. From the driver’s seat he glances over at me. A smirk tugs at his gorgeous lips.
He knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“It should be illegal,” I say.
“What?”
“To be as fine as you are.” I let out a sigh. I never missed how gorgeous my best friend is. It was just that before we crossed this line, I never felt comfortable saying it out loud. Not directly to him, at least.
“You think I’m fine?” he asks.
I swat his comment away. “Shut up.”
He chuckles.
I allow my hungry gaze to drink him in without shame. My eyes trail down his face, over his broad shoulders, and down the length of his arm until I reach his hands on the steering wheel.
My lips fall into a frown at the sight of the bruises on his knuckles.
“What happened to the gloves I bought you?” I ask him.
He flexes his hand as he looks at it and then back at the road. A muscle in his jaw ticks.
We’re on our way to the art fair in Blairwood, a small city about five hours from Williamsport.
