“Here’s the thing, I moved out to the Yukon because I was determined to live my life on my own terms. I didn’t want to be owned by anyone, have anyone tell me who I needed to be or how I needed to do it. I don’t ask permission.”
Troy nods, and I appreciate that he’s trying to follow.
“The thing is,” I tell him. “I thought I didn’t need to ask permission, for anything. But I was wrong. I need to ask you permission, sir. Permission for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Troy’s eyebrows raise, clearly shocked, I’m not surprised. I figured he might not know everything that’s gone down between Ava and me, but I need to do this right. Even if it’s uncomfortable or seems old-fashioned, I know one thing about Ava Grace. She’s a romantic. Asking her father for her hand in marriage is something I want to do for her. For us.
“Is this something she’s hoping you’d ask? I don’t mean to be rude, Samson, but this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“I know, sir, I know it might seem unexpected—”
“No, not unexpected. I’ve learned through raising Ava Grace that expecting the unexpected is the only way to survive when it comes to that girl. And who am I to judge? You want to be with her and she wants to be with you, well then welcome to the family. I trust her implicitly. But you, Samson, can I trust you?”
“Yes, sir,” I tell him. “You can trust me, I won’t let you down.”
Troy nods slowly, reaching his arms around me and giving me a fatherly hug. I haven’t received a hug like this in twenty years.
“It’s not me you need to worry about letting down, Samson. If she’s going to be your wife, Ava Grace is the only one you need to worry about making happy.”
In the car, Ava Grace is silent. I’m silent too, not wanting to push her, but so badly wanting to help her.
Eventually, we get on the road and I know it’s up to me to break the silence.
“I’m so glad you weren’t hurt in the fire, Ava Grace.”
She makes a sharp intake of breath. Her hand reaches for mine. “I forgive you, Samson. I forgive you and I should have told you that sooner.”
“We’ll talk about that, but I don’t want to stress you out. This whole night has already been so—”
“No, I’m not stressed out,” she tells me. “I feel like I know exactly who I am and exactly what I want. And Samson, I hated spending a month without you.”
I look at her, at this woman who takes my breath away. I didn’t expect her onslaught of emotions like this, telling me she’s accepted my apology and that she has missed me.
I wanted her to say these things, of course I did, but I knew I didn’t necessarily deserve them.
“I know what I want too,” I tell her.
“What do you want, Samson?” she asks, squeezing my knee. “Besides giving me your meatballs?”
Her joke makes driving fucking impossible. All I want is to pull over and have her here and now. I groan, feeling my cock grow hard, but knowing I need to get my girl safely home.
I keep my eyes on the road. “I want to talk this all through, but I need to get you to my place safely, first. Hell, especially after we’ve been through the fire, been through hell and back, I need to get you home in one piece.”
“I understand,” she says, keeping her hand on my knee.
My heart is pumping, so fucking grateful that she forgive me. Ava is sitting next to me laughing about mother fucking meatballs and I know we are made for one another.
“So,” she says, “you’re not actually this reclusive man living alone in the woods?”
I shake my head to clarify. “I am a recluse. I live alone, except for some employees.”
“But you live out in the woods? Pretty far from here?”
“I live about a two-hour flight from here, and it’s in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. But it’s beautiful. And I’m lucky bastard to have so much.”
“I can’t believe you’re a billionaire. You really pull off the I-don’t-give-a-shit-vibe very well.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Ava Grace laughs, and that laughter fills the car with what sounds like a thousand stars.
“It is a compliment,” she tells me, lacing her fingers through mine. “A very good compliment.”
Once everyone has arrived safely to my home, everyone’s eyes widen as they take in my place.
“Damn, brother, this is just one of your homes?” Taylor asks.
“Yeah, but honestly, the things I own don’t define me.”
Ava Grace is by my side. The girl who is incapable of holding back. “So, then what defines you, Samson?”
“The people in my life.”
“Crazy to hear that from you, Samson,” Taylor scoffs. “After you’ve been MIA for so long.”