Mom grinned. “You do know that if you don’t show me, I’m going to look you up on the internet and find out just what kind of rock star my daughter is tangled up with.”
Melanie had already googled him and knew there wasn’t much incriminating evidence out there about Gabe. Compared to what she’d read about Jacob and Adam, Gabe was relatively boring. But there was a lot of commentary on his dragon tattoos.
“You might as well show her,” Melanie said.
After a few seconds of hesitation, he removed his hat and set it on the table beside him before picking up a rib and gnawing off a bite.
“You’re such a nice-looking young man,” Mom said, “Why would you permanently ruin your looks?”
Gabe turned to offer her a hard stare, and she shrank back into her chair with her hand over her chest as if he’d threatened her. He then smiled, and her shoulders relaxed.
“That’s why,” he said.
“I still don’t get it,” Dad said. “Or the red hair dye. What are you thinking, boy?”
“It’s part of his image,” Melanie said. “For the band. It toughens him up.”
“And if he ever wants to lose that image?” Dad asked.
“I’ll grow my hair out.”
Just in the few days he’d been off tour, a fine layer of dark brown hair had started to fill in the sides of his Mohawk.
“Now that I’m used to them, I like your dragons,” Melanie said. She touched a spot just behind his temple where the tips of flames from the dragon’s mouth extended a few centimeters beyond his hairline. “I’m not sure they’ll be entirely covered anyway.”
“For the most part they are. I always let my hair grow out when I’m not on tour. It’s a total pain in the ass to have to shave your head every day.”
“You might be able to get a real job, then,” Dad said.
Apparently the man was already comfortable enough around Gabe to offer parental criticism.
“I might,” Gabe said.
Melanie supposed he got similar talks from his own parents. Maybe he was used to this kind of thing, but it still annoyed her.
“I didn’t start going out with him because he’s a rock star,” Melanie said, “but I’m proud to be his.”
“That sounds pretty serious,” Mom said, her gaze darting to Gabe’s head whenever he was looking the other way.
“We are serious,” Gabe said. “And I was going to wait until after dinner to do this, but now seems like a good time.”
Gabe stood and slid his hand into the front pocket of his slacks. He went down on one knee beside Melanie’s chair, some small object in his hand. She smiled at the look of love in his eyes and was sure a similar look was showing on her face as well.
“I planned to ask permission, but I doubt your parents will grant it, so I’ll just make this official.” He took her left hand in his and slipped a dazzling diamond ring onto her finger. “You already said yes once, but I’ll ask again anyway, this time with witnesses and a ring. Melanie Anderson, you are my one. I promise to love you as you deserve to be loved every day for the rest of my life. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
His face blurred behind the sudden rush of tears in her eyes. “I meant it when I said I would. Ring or no ring, my answer will be the same even if you ask me a thousand times. Yes, Gabe Banner, I will marry you.”
Her mother produced a barely perceptible squeak. Melanie forced her eyes from Gabe’s smiling face to make sure Mom was okay.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom said, climbing from her chair to circle the table and wrap her arms around Melanie. “I’m so glad you found someone to love.” She kissed the top of Melanie’s head, nearly smothering her against her chest.
Melanie felt some of the strain in her spine ease. She hadn’t realized how worried she was about her parents’ reaction until her mom so easily accepted the inevitable. There was still a bit of tension in her body as she turned to her father. His face was nearly purple.
“No daughter of mine is marrying a . . . a . . . a thug.”
And here was the man she knew as her father. She’d wondered where he’d been hiding.
“He’s not a thug,” Melanie said, her spine stiffening defensively. “He’s the greatest man I’ve ever known next to you.”
Dad didn’t take that as a compliment. “Musicians are all alike—head in the clouds, impractical, self-serving destroyers of virtue.”
Melanie didn’t know which part to laugh about. Gabe was none of those things—except the musician part—and Melanie had been far from virtuous when she’d met him.
“Mark,” Mom said softly, “this isn’t about me and Darryl. This is about Melanie and Gabe.”
The flush on Dad’s face seemed to be embarrassment rather than anger as he ducked his head and then stood. “I need a beer. Melanie!” he said sharply as he headed for the garage where he’d set up the little microbrewery he was so proud of.
Melanie cringed. She was very familiar with that tone; in the past it had meant she was about to be grounded. And even though she was fully grown, living on her own and now engaged, she never wanted to disappoint her dad.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to Gabe as she stood.
She rubbed the unfamiliar band on her left finger and took a second look at her new diamond. She smiled, her heart brimming with happiness. The ring was perfect. Not too big, but not tiny. Like the man, it was perfect. When had Gabe found the time to get her a ring? When he’d been out test driving her car, she realized with a rush of pleasure. She glanced over her shoulder and offered him a courageous smile before entering the overwarm garage. Dad shut the door behind her.
“What are you thinking?” he said, taking her firmly by one arm. “You cannot marry a guy like him.”
“A guy like who? Like Gabe? I’m lucky to have him. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“You said that about the last guy.”
She didn’t remember ever saying that about any of her previous boyfriends, but it didn’t matter. “This will be my last guy. Gabe will be my husband. You’d better get used to the idea.”
Dad shook his head. “I’ll never get used to the idea. Will you look at him?”
“Will you?” Melanie said, tugging her arm out of his grasp and going to the small refrigerator where Dad kept his various home brews. “Look at him, Dad, not at what’s on the outside.” Though she was undeniably attracted to that part of him as well. “But what’s on the inside. I guarantee he will surprise you.”
“He surprised me all right,” Dad said. “At first glance he looks ordinary. But underneath?” He shook his head as if unable to believe that Gabe was real.
“He’s anything but ordinary, Dad. He’s remarkable. I see it, and I hope someday you’ll see it too. I’m moving to Austin to live with him.” She opened the refrigerator and peeked inside. “Which beer should I try?” Maybe that question would distract him from her previous statement.
“You’re not moving in with him.”
“I am. And I’m marrying him. There isn’t anything you can do about it. I’m a grown woman.”
He closed his eyes and bit his lip. After a moment, he said, “But you’re not. Not to me. To me you’ll always be my little girl.”
“Would you give beer to a little girl?”
He laughed and opened his eyes. She’d never seen her father cry, so the mistiness in his eyes made her own tears well up.
“You’ve always been clever. Do you know how exasperating that is?”
“I get that from Mom, and you must li
ke it if you married her.”
“Take a beer to your friend and give me a minute to compose myself,” Dad said. “And you might want to hide the knife before I return to the table. I might find a new use for it.”
“Daddy!” She pulled two beers from the fridge, closing the door with her hip. “You aren’t going to stab anyone.”
“I believe I have a castration on my agenda.”