Desperately Seeking Epic(34)

“True,” I can’t help adding, to which he owns with a few dips of his head.

“And I should’ve never let the staff disrespect you the way they did.”

I swallow a few times because, damn it, it was hard, and turn back to my casserole. “I managed, and got through it,” I reply. These are the days I hate to think about. I was fresh blood. Starting here was awful, but at the time the alternative—staying in Texas and possibly seeing Kurt with his new family—was far worse.

“I know. And you were right about so much. But I know that had to have sucked. If I had known what happened, why Dennis left you half, it would’ve been—”

“Different?” I sneer, cutting my gaze to him. “Wasn’t it easier to assume I was his mistress or illegitimate daughter?”

“You should have told me,” he replies calmly. “I understand why you didn’t at first, but after we . . . when we were . . .” He pauses.

“You can’t even say it,” I challenge him.

He narrows his brows. “Why are you getting angry? I’m trying to apologize.”

This time I spin toward him and put my hands on my hips. “For what exactly, Paul?” My skin heats as my tone thickens with ridicule. “Being a dick to your new business partner or for running off on me with no rhyme or reason? Or for not loving me? Which is it?”

He runs a hand through his thick, black hair. “I . . . thought you wanted other things.”

“Maybe you should have asked me.” Popping the oven open, I shove the dish inside and slam the door shut.

I spin around intending to stomp out of the kitchen, but he’s here. Right here. I jump, startled, but he quickly grabs me and pulls me to him. His body is still hard, not like it was years ago when he had that blessed gift that is the youth of your twenties, where you look at the gym and have a six-pack, but still, for a man his age, his body is primed. Tracing his fingers up the back of my neck, he fists my hair gently, forcing me to look at him. “Look at me. I f*cked up,” he rasps. “I know it. I’ve always known it. But I did love you, and I’ve never stopped. Hate me for leaving. Hate me for being a dick. But don’t hate me because I didn’t love you.”

Then he kisses me. Soft and quick, long enough for his light beard to scratch against the delicate skin of my face, before releasing me. Stumbling back, I hit the counter and hold myself. I’m going to need a minute to process what just happened.

“On another note,” he moves on. “I think Neena might have a little crush on that Mills kid.”

I stare at him. He still loves me? He kissed me. I’m still processing the kiss. What’s he talking about?

So he continues, “She got all excited when I called her a kid in front of him.”

I manage to move robotically and make my way to the fridge, snatching my own beer. It’s probably best we change subjects because I have no idea what to say about what just happened. Clearing my throat, I respond, “She’s got good taste. He’s a cute guy.”

“What?” Paul snorts. “You’re not bothered by this?”

Rolling my eyes, I twist the cap off my beer and take a quick sip. “Why would I be?”

Paul shrugs, his expression changing with his thoughts. “I don’t know. Because she’s our little girl and he’s . . . a guy . . .”

I give him a pointed look, waiting for the real issue to come out.

“With a penis,” he finishes.

I can’t help the laughter that explodes from my mouth. “Boys do have those pesky things, don’t they?”

“Are you laughing at me?”

I look up to the ceiling in thought. “Yes,” I chuckle. “Yes, I am.”

Paul purses his lips in annoyance.

“It’s not like they’re doing anything. There’s nothing wrong with her having a crush on an older guy.”

“Wow,” he surmises. “I thought I was the cool parent.”

“You are,” Neena chimes in as she enters the kitchen. “What are we talking about?”

“Wait. Why am I not the cool parent?” I fake offense.

Neena shrugs. “You’re just cool in a different way,” she replies, stealing a cucumber from the salad on the counter, just like Paul did a few moments before. I’m starting to see she’s a lot like him.

Paul does an obnoxious, silent mocking laugh, directed at me. I flip him the bird when Neena isn’t looking. “You know, if you want to be cool like me, I could give you some lessons.”

I pretend to gag. “Thanks, but I’m good on my own.”

“I wouldn’t charge much,” Paul continues.

“Is that so?” I ask as I slightly pull the oven door open and peek inside.

“What should my fee be, Neena?” he asks.

When I turn back, Neena has her mouth twisted in thought. Then her brows perk up. “A date.”

I’m holding my breath as Paul and I awkwardly make eye contact. I cannot have her thinking we will date. “I’ll make you a cake,” I finally answer.

They both twist their mouths. Neena opens her mouth to speak, but for fear she’ll mention Paul and I dating again, I speak before she can.

“Your dad wants to beat up Mills because you like him,” I announce nonchalantly.