A Father's Name(49)



“Yeah, you keep saying that. But since that’s all you’ll allow, I’ll find some way to settle. I mean, here I was secretly pining for a white gown and wedding ring. You know how I’m very into that kind of froo-froo stuff, but somehow I’ll survive. I’ll cancel my subscription to Bride’s Magazine and—”

He turned away from her again and slammed his open hand on the counter. “Dammit, Angel, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, and I know this routine. You’re going to tell me how tough you are. How afraid you are that next time I piss you off like magic you’ll turn into your father and smack me.” She closed the gap between them and stood next to him without actually touching him. “Well, here I am, Tyler. Not crying, sobbing and telling you I can’t live if you won’t make an honest woman of me. Not backing up and not backing down. I’m probably upsetting you left and right. And to be sure I am, let me ask again, what was with the registered letter?”

He remembered his mother pulling in on herself when his father came home drunk. Afraid of a wrong step that would set him off. Angelina didn’t have that sort of internal censor. She seemed to revel in pushing him. “What is wrong with you? You’re like half my size. If I did hit you, I’d flatten you.”

“That’s a huge if. To be honest, I don’t really think it’s an if at all. It’s a possibility I don’t believe in. Not for one second. You’ve spent your life worrying you’re going turn into your father, but it won’t happen. Not ever. I know with absolute certainty that I could push you to the edge of reason, and you’d still never hurt me. Ever.” She stood there, fearless and ferocious in her belief in him.

“How can you know that when I don’t?” he asked softly.

“Because you see yourself through a filter…your father stands between you and your true reflection. I simply see you—only you—and you would never hurt me.”

“Angel, you’re nuts.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” She reached out and wrapped her arms around him and simply held him with the same kind of tenderness she’d held Jace with. “I’m not asking you for anything more than you can give.”

“What if I say I can’t give you the answers you want?”

He felt her shrug as she still embraced him. “Then I’ll wait until you can.”

“And if I never can?”



“Like I said, I’m pretty sure I see you more clearly than you see yourself. I’ll wait.” She snuggled even closer. “But what, oh what, will we do while I’m standing here waiting?” She glanced up at the clock on the microwave. “It’s only nine. Bart’s curfew isn’t until eleven thirty, so I have some time to hang around. That is if you can think of something to do to keep me occupied.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead before he thought about it. “You’re insane, you know that.”

“And you are one smooth talking man whose sugary words could win any woman’s heart.” She stopped and laughed. “Not that you want to win my heart. But maybe I could convince you to try winning my body again before I have to go home?”

The coffee pot sputtered to the end of its cycle, but Tyler could have cared less about that cup he was craving moments ago.

All he could think about was this foolish, trusting woman who wouldn’t see sense. A woman who trusted a man convicted of embezzlement with her business’s books. A woman who believed in him despite all the evidence to the contrary.

Standing there in her classic T-shirt, with sleep-tousled curls, she smiled at him as if she knew she’d already won.

Hell, maybe she did know him better than he thought.



He leaned down, picked her up and started toward the stairway.

“Put me down, you’re going to break something.”

He snorted. “Like I can’t handle a pint-sized woman like you.”

“Pint-sized, my ass.”

“I can handle that, too.”

She laughed. “If you break something, don’t come whining to me.”

Tyler laughed as well, but he realized he was at risk of breaking something. Not anything physical. But when he let Angelina go—and he would have to let her go eventually—he’d be breaking his own heart.

But she should have all those things she’d scoffed at. She should have a ring and a white dress. More than that, she should have a man who would love her and treasure her, and never hurt her. She might think she knew him, but he knew himself better—he wasn’t that guy.

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