Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Hey!” I go after him, the lingering panic bubbling. Snatching his arm, I yank him to a stop, but I don’t have the strength to spin him to face me. So I circle him and hit him with the most serious stare I can muster. “Tell me you’re not going to shoot my dad,” I demand, placing my palm on his chest, my hint to him that I’m not letting him pass until he’s obeyed my demand.
His face softens a little, his eyes closing briefly. He’s gathering patience. Or is it strength? “I’m not going to shoot your father, angel.”
My eyes scan the floor at his feet. I feel so lost. Here, but lost. “I just want to be with you.” I look up at him, seeing the hopelessness in him, too. “Why all this hate and obstruction?”
He smiles sadly and moves into me, coiling his arm around my neck and settling in for a cuddle. I need it. “Because your father thinks I’m not the man for you.” He nestles his lips into my hair and breathes in, long and deep. “I need to convince him that I am.”
“By putting a gun to his head?” I ask into his shoulder, wondering, maybe, if it’s the only way.
Jake frees me and bends, looking me directly in the eyes. His thumb draws a line across my eyebrow and down my cheek. “I’m not prepared to lose you, Cami. Your father needs to get used to that fact.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to agree.
I nod, reluctantly and slowly, because regardless of this being extreme and dramatic, I know he’s right. “Okay.”
“Besides,” he goes on, clearly seeing I need more reassurance. “I’ve carried a loaded weapon every time I’ve met your father. I’ve managed to avoid shooting him so far.”
“That’s not funny.” I scowl and he smiles, dropping a chaste kiss onto my forehead. “Please don’t tell him about this.” I raise my hand and flash him my inked ring. Jesus, one step at a time.
Jake glances down at my finger, smiling as he takes my hand and slips the pad of his thumb across the top. “Just one more reason for him to disapprove. We need to fix this.”
We seriously do. I’m quite fond of my makeshift ring, for no other reason than Jake lovingly and meticulously having put it there. My dad, on the other hand, would see it as an insult. Lord, he’s not going to be happy. About any of this. Jake’s proposal or the inked ring. It breaks my heart. “We’ll tell him when the dust settles.”
“Whatever you want, angel.” He kisses my ring and straightens, taking on an edge of resolution. “What time will Heather be here?”
“About—” Right on cue, there’s a loud, forceful knock at the door. “Now,” I breathe, looking over my shoulder to ensure it’s still on its hinges. “Can I tell Heather we’re engaged?”
“Can she keep her mouth shut?”
I ponder that for a second, pouting. I expect the whole of London will hear her squeal of surprise when I tell her. “Yes,” I conclude. I’ll gag her as need be. I need to tell someone.
Jake pulls me back around and pushes the hair from my face. “Relax. Look for a ring on the Internet. Plan where you want to marry me, when, and who you want there. Have fun, angel.”
He drops a loving kiss on my nose before making his way to the door. The prospect of planning my wedding should excite me, but I feel unable to embrace his enthusiasm until I know what’s next. Right now, his encouragement just feels like an attempt to pacify me.
He looks through the peephole—instinct, I guess—before he swings the door open and Heather virtually falls through it, her auburn hair swishing, a bottle of Prosecco in her grasp. She gives Jake the once-over as she straightens herself out, her eyes smiling. “Hey, big man.”
“Afternoon.” He strides past my best friend and disappears down the corridor. I breathe some strength into me. God knows I’m going to need it.
“I love how he pulls the broody sexy persona with such ease,” Heather jokes, shutting the door before turning and waving the bottle at me. “I came prepared. I want to know everything.” She points to the sofa and I comply, leaving her to fetch the glasses from the kitchen.
* * *
An hour later, Heather is up to speed on the chaos that is my life. She’s swigged her drink in between the odd stunned gasp, and listened carefully. Honestly, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to relaying every tiny detail to her, but it’s been a great time killer. Jake’s been gone an hour. I’m expecting a call any minute to tell me that everything is settled, my dad has graciously admitted he was wrong and accepted Jake with open arms, and we can all live happily ever after. Then I fall back down to earth and remember who my dad is.