“Well, damn. I actually believe you.”
“Smart man.” Rick couldn’t help but look at the scar that man carried. They all had burdens to work through. “About a lot of things.”
Mako’s shoulders relaxed as he went off attention mode and took a swig of his beer. “I take it to mean we’re not going swimming.”
“Not tonight.” He clinked drinks again as the rain picked up pace. “We’d better head back inside.”
Mako nodded and Rick turned his back on the open water with no little regret.
He got the message that he needed to be there for his daughter now, no more waiting for perfect legs. He would never be the perfect man, perfect father. But where did he fit into her world? Hell, where did he fit into Nola’s world, for that matter? Just being here tonight made him burn for things he could never have again. The water made him think he could do more.
Except until he could figure out how to fit into her world, he needed to stick to his original thoughts going into this night. He couldn’t afford to take things further with her.
And for some reason, that stabbed at him more than it had at the beginning of the evening.
Nola picked at the plate of chili-cheese fries in front of her as she sat with Lauren. The whole engagement party had been a blast—heavy finger food, live music and dancing. Noisy and fun, just the sort of squadron party they all enjoyed. She could see Lauren’s foot tapping under the table even though the teen kept her standard “life sucks” expression plastered on her face.
And gauging by Rick’s wandering off down the dock now that the rain muted the stars, apparently Lauren inherited her moodiness from her dad. Thank heavens for good old Mako, who’d enticed him to head back once the storm kicked up. The two were now ambling back along the pier toward the party.
Nola shifted her attention to Lauren again. “Sweetie, can I get you something else to drink?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“He doesn’t even want me here,” she blurted.
Nola struggled for the right thing to say, but she didn’t have any experience with teens. And why did teens layer three spaghetti strap tops that still showed their bra straps? “How can you say that?”
Lauren simply stared at her with that same “duh” look her father got. “I show up and the first thing he does is book me a flight home.”
Nola leaned forward and pointed with a French fry. “Be reasonable, kiddo. I’ve got a stalker gunning for me and because of me, your dad’s in the cross-hairs, too. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. You can’t fault him for that.”
“He barely even hugged me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
The kid had a point there and Nola wanted to kick Rick. “Okay, his reception wasn’t the warmest, but you have to admit you caught him off guard—and you scared the bejesus out of him.”
“Bejesus?”
“I’m an old, out-of-style lady. What can I say? But you get my point. Think about it.” Nola popped the fry into her mouth.
Lauren’s arms relaxed along with her practiced expression. “You aren’t even going to try and fake me out?” She actually reached for a fry, shaking her head. “Wow, you just won cool points on that alone. Okay. Yeah. My dad ignores me and it hurts.”
The teen stuffed a fry oozing cheese in her mouth, then another, taking her time chewing. Nola stayed quiet, giving her time to think and gather her words rather than pushing.
Finally Lauren swallowed and reached for her fork to stab up some of the chili…or rather just stab at the pile and not lift anything. “But I’m like him. If something hurts, I just get right up in that hurt’s face and stand it down. I’m not quitting. I want my dad in my life and not that lame-butt stepdad my mother has picked out for me. So here I am.”
“You are a lot like Rick.”
“Tough luck for me, huh?” Lauren dropped her fork with a clank.
“No, Lauren.” Nola reached across to take her hand before the kid could wrap her arms around herself defensively again. “It’s the luckiest break you ever got. You’re a fighter and a winner.”
“You met me, like, two days ago.” She didn’t hold hands back but she didn’t pull away, the long-fingered hand with nails painted alternating colors of pink and green to match the teen’s shirts—two of the three tank tops, anyway.
“I’m a quick people reader.” She squeezed Lauren’s hand with a reassurance she hoped the girl would accept and believe. “And your father has told me a lot about you.”
Her eager look just about tore Nola’s heart in two. Then Lauren went all blasé teen again. “So, like, what did he say?”