Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)
He hesitates for a moment, looking to my dad for permission before returning her hug. My dad loves that, nodding approvingly. He hates when men touch my mom. Even after all these years, he's still possessive of her.
Caleb gives her a quick squeeze and then steps back to shake my dad's hand. "Sir."
"Well, that's about enough of that bullshit," my dad says, eyes narrowed on Caleb. "My name is Bentley. I may be old, but I'm not too fucking old to kick your ass if you start calling me sir."
"Dad!" I admonish.
"Bentley!" Mom says at the same time, swatting him on the arm.
"What?"
Caleb's brows shoot up in surprise, but he quickly recovers and chuckles. "Alright, Bentley it is."
"Good." My dad grins, patting him on the shoulder.
I lean down, setting Koda on the floor.
He sniffs at my dad before making his way toward mom, nuzzling into her hands as she lets out a delighted laugh.
"I think your dog likes me more than you," she teases. At this point, I wouldn't be shocked if it were true, considering that Koda growls at practically everyone other than Caleb and now, apparently, my mom.
"Little shit," my dad mutters affectionately.
"Why don't we sit down and have a drink?" I suggest, leading the way into the living room.
Caleb places his hand on the small of my back, his hand a comforting weight as he and my parents trail behind me. While everyone gets comfortable, I cross into the kitchen to grab beer for my dad and Caleb. I pour wine for my mom, but I stick to water. I want a clear head for this conversation.
I pass out everyone's drinks and settle onto the sofa next to Caleb, who smiles at me gratefully.
My dad watches us, his lips pursed. "Can we skip the bullshit and discuss why we're really here?" he asks.
"The paparazzi," I whisper.
"No, not the paparazzi," he says with a snort. "The photographers will always be there, Sutton. It's what they do. I'm talking about the two of you. I've known you for your entire life. And I've never seen you look at anyone the way you're looking at him. I want to know what's going on with the two of you."
"Oh." I gulp.
Caleb places his hand over mine. "I'm in love with your daughter," he says, his voice firm and unyielding.
Dad's eyes narrow, his gaze flicking between us. "What does that mean exactly, Maverick? Because loving her isn't like loving anyone else. She's special."
"I'm aware of that. Her career is important to me too. I won't stand in that way of that," Caleb replies, meeting my dad's gaze head-on in a display of sheer determination that has my heart pounding in my chest.
"That's not what I'm talking about, son. Her career is just that: a career. Those come and go. But my daughter is more than that. She's a once in a lifetime type of girl. If you can't protect that part of her with everything you are, you don't deserve her. If you can't love her—not her career but her—with everything you are, you don't deserve her. And if you're sitting here now offering her anything less than a lifetime, you aren't good enough for her. Because that's what she deserves. Anything less isn't good enough for her. That's the type of girl she is."
"Dad," I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.
"I mean it, baby girl. You deserve the world. If he can't give it to you, he isn't the one for you. And I'm not talking about money. It doesn't take a rich man to make you happy. Lord knows, you've never asked for much. But you deserve someone who can love every part of you. If he can't do that, he doesn't deserve you."
Caleb doesn't say anything. He sits there, letting my father's words wash over him. His jaw is tight, and his piercing blue eyes are locked onto a spot on the floor. Slowly, he lifts his head, his gaze flickering between my father and me. There's a defiance in his look, a determination that sends a shiver down my spine.
Silence stretches taut as a wire between us before Caleb finally clears his throat, squaring his shoulders. "I wholeheartedly agree, Mr. Reynolds," he begins, his deep voice bouncing off the walls of the room.
"But I need to make one thing clear. Your daughter isn't just 'the type of girl', she's Sutton." He pauses, running a hand through his hair before continuing, "She's got hazel eyes that remind me of fresh—baked cookies and laughter that sounds like summer rain against an old tin roof."
I gasp softly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. My heart feels like it might burst out of my chest.
"She's snarky but sweet," he says with a chuckle that makes me blush bright red. "Her smile brightens up even the darkest days." His gaze softens, meeting mine. "She's someone who has seen the world but chooses to hide from it because she values peace more than fame."