Saylor

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad my daughter found a good man who treats her right,” Dad tells them with an edge to his voice.

“And I always will,” Anthony promises before raising his glass. “To family.”

The rest of us join in. “To family.”

My dad is deathly quiet throughout the rest of dinner, other than a few grandpa jokes tossed in Grady’s direction. I have a feeling it’s the calm before the storm. And if Owen wants another chance at winning my dad’s approval, which is something I desperately want, then he has his work cut out for him. Regardless of what my dad said to me the last time I was here, Owen still hurt me, and my dad knows it.

22

Owen

The rhythmic creak from Brock’s rocking chair makes my pulse spike as I head up the freshly shoveled steps toward the porch.

Coffee mug in hand, he lifts his chin in greeting. “Still hiding from me?”

“Grady wanted to try out the snowmobiles––”

“I’m kidding, Owen. Take a seat.”

The cold air does nothing to ease the heat of his stare, but I inhale deeply anyway, prepping for an onslaught of reasons why I should stay the hell away from his oldest daughter. My weight causes the old wooden chair to groan as I collapse into it before my gaze searches for Grady and Saylor playing in the snow despite the darkening sky.

Like a picture-perfect moment.

Like a dream that I never believed could be reality.

Yet here it is. There’s just one more obstacle.

I glance over at Brock, but he’s still staring at his daughter and my son bonding.

“I always thought she’d be a good mom,” Brock comments.

“So do I.”

“Your son likes her.”

“He does.”

“She likes him.”

“Yeah.” I take in her giant grin as she tosses a snowball at his puffy coat. “She does.”

“She’s happy.”

“I hope she is.”

“You can’t see it?” he asks.

Tearing my attention from the two most important people in my life, I glance over at Brock again. “I can see it.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

My brows twitch up toward my hairline before I cover my surprise with indifference. “Look, I know that I put you in a bad position, and––”

“Let me finish, Owen.”

I sigh but keep my mouth shut.