Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(78)

“Can’t say that ’cause it’s not, darlin’.” I wait for her to look at me, surprised. “Best ever’s coming. Round one’s just a warmup.”

“Round one?” She laughs, her eyes going adorably jittery in her head. “Oh, my, yes.”

I smile, pulling her into another kiss. So maybe I’ve created a sex-crazed little monster, and damn if I don’t love it.

She lifts her head again, bracing for more, but her smile quickly turns into a frown. “Hey, wait. What was that? That chirping sound?”

It takes me a minute to realize it’s my phone.

The camera app.

Aw, hell.





13





The Girl Dad Married (Bella)





I press a hand to the churning in my stomach as the white BMW pulls into the yard.

Talk about bad timing.

My knees are still so weak from Drake I don’t dare let go of the barn door. I had no clue an orgasm could do that to a human being, much less me. Leave them unable to stand. To walk.

And if that buzzer on Drake’s phone hadn’t gone off, we’d still be in the hay loft, having more fun than I’ve ever had.

Glancing down at my clothes, I check to make sure I didn’t put anything on inside out in my rush to get dressed, furiously finger-combing my hair. We barely had time to throw on our clothes and scramble down out of the loft.

I can’t believe this crap.

“You look fine,” Drake whispers in my ear. “Don’t even have any hay in your hair.”

His hand circles my waist, and loving his touch, I say, “That’d be your problem. I started on top, remember?”

He chuckles. “I’ll never forget it.”

“Neither will I.” I really couldn’t. Not ever.

Sadly, I’m going to have to try to deal with...whatever this is. Yet another unexpected visit from Mom. I swear to God, she’s timing them now to try to break us, one more high pressure tactic I wouldn’t put past her.

But when the driver’s side door of the car swings open, I’m surprised to see it’s just Dad. No sign of her in the passenger seat anywhere.

“Want me to come with?” Drake asks.

I nod slowly, and with his support, approach the BMW.

“Hi, Dad,” I say as we get closer.

He nods as his gaze bounces between us, first Drake, then me.

I hold my breath at the thought of him knowing what he’d interrupted.

Thank God for that app on Drake’s phone. Without the advance warning, who knows what could’ve happened here. I still don’t know what will.

“So what brings you by?” I eye him cautiously. He’s a quiet man, never easy to get much out of him even at the best times.

“Your mother’s upset,” Dad finally says.

“What else is new?” I ask with a bitter edge to my voice.

He doesn’t really nod, but I sense he’s not angry with my answer. Maybe he’s just defeated. Sick of it all.

“I’m upset, too, Annabelle,” he says. “And disappointed.”

For a second, I want to lay into him, but stop, searching for meaning.

He’s not like Mom. I’ve rarely heard a bad word from him directed at anyone. He’s never said he’s disappointed with me, either. What gives?

“Let’s go inside and talk this out,” Drake says. Finally, a sensible suggestion.

Dad agrees. Once we’re in the living room, I sit down on the sofa while Dad takes one of the arm chairs flanking it. They’re light-brown leather, and I run my hands over the coolness, needing something to calm my nerves.

I really don’t want a showdown with my father. I’m not even sure how I’ll react to it. This isn’t like him, showing up on his own, talking like this. I don’t know how to interpret what’s about to happen.

“Can I get you some coffee, Mr. Reed?” Drake asks. “Water? A beer?”

“Hmm, I could go for a beer,” Dad murmurs, stroking his chin.

He actually has a five o’clock shadow. I’ve only seen that a couple times in my life, another thing out of the ordinary.

Whatever he’s doing here, it must not be to raise hell or rake me over the coals, if he’s willing to take Drake up on the drink offer.

Honestly, I haven’t seen him drink beer for ages.

Mother prefers red wine, so by default, Dad does too. Their place has an entire cellar stacked high with European imports.

An odd bout of empathy rises up in me. He’s always been so mild-tempered, so calm and easygoing, and so hard to read. I wonder if it’s because he’s depressed.

“Bella?”

I look up at Drake, who’s waiting for my answer.

“I’m good. Maybe just a water. Thanks.” I watch him walk into the kitchen. Come to think of it, he can be mild tempered, calm, and easygoing too, but no woman will ever run roughshod over Drake the way Mom has on Dad.

“Your mother says...that you were married over a month ago,” Dad begins, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

Uh-oh. I just nod, flinching inwardly at how I don’t like deceiving him. “It’s true,” I whisper.

“Why?”

I don’t respond. What can I say?