Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

“They have no grounds!” she shot back.

“Don’t they?” I questioned, shaking my head in disbelief. How many times had the public seen me out with her when she was younger holding my hand, laughing, watching me carry her on my shoulders? They saw a man helping his best friend raise his daughter when his job kept him busy. They saw somebody who was doing good for a selfless cause, but it wasn’t selfless. I liked being there for Della. Watching her succeed. Seeing how she grew up into a strong woman. But if they saw what that innocent relationship grew into, it would be bad. Especially if it were The Dick who released that information like I knew he would—like he’d all but threatened.

Della gaped at me, slowly shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what I was saying. Part of me couldn’t either. “And what exactly have we done that warrants that kind of doubt?”

“I slept with somebody who was a ward of mine. Somebody that my longest friend trusted me with.”

“Because you care about me.”

I nodded. “True, but that won’t mean much to a lot of people given the history we have. Trust me, Della, there are people out there who are rooting against us.”

“So, I’m only allowed to be yours in private? A dirty secret you keep in your back pocket for you to play with when you see fit.” Her voice wavered, splintering my heart when the hurt grew in her eyes. “I don’t want to be the person you get to love in the dark, Theo. To even think that’s what you might want…”

As soon as that four-letter word escaped those heart-shaped lips of hers, I was fucking gone. How many times had she told me that growing up? All innocent. All pure. Hearing that now, even indirectly, it was a possibility that struck me fucking stupid. I needed her to tell me she loved me, to know I loved her, but I wasn’t sure how we could get there without serious problems with Pratt. I needed to handle him first before we explored things publicly. “You have never been my dirty secret.”

Furiously swiping at a fallen tear on her cheek before I could, she stepped back from me with a harsh breath. “Is that why you wanted to go inside and have this

discussion instead of just manning up and doing it here in public? Is that why left so early the morning after you came inside me so people wouldn’t wonder why Theo West was leaving my apartment building? Did you decide this before or after I sucked you off until you shot down my throat? Or is it—”

“I get your point,” I cut her off in a hard tone, fists shaking.

“But am I getting through to you?” she doubted, rubbing her temples. “Like I said, Theo, I don’t want to go back to how we were. We can’t. We will never be the same after what we did. It was a spontaneous decision. It was one I made that I was proud of because I got to control it. I got to do something that made me happy, something I’ve wanted to do for so long. And you just ruined it. So, congratulations.”

“I—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Holding up her hand, she took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. “I just want you to listen to me. I’ve loved you my whole life as so many things and that’s never going to change. What will, is how I love you from here on out. Today, tomorrow, ten years from now. Whether you like it or not, you have tattooed yourself into my life and that will never be removed even if you try convincing me that we’re better off not pursuing this. Those memories you’re afraid of? They’re part of our story. They might even make the story we’re writing. It shows that people change. Feelings change. And that it’s okay for that to happen.”

I didn’t have a response for her that she’d accept, and she knew it. Looking at me for a moment longer, she dipped her chin and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her father’s jacket.

The words I found were ones that crushed her. She didn’t try to hide it. “I’m trying to protect you, Della. I’ve always done that. I don’t expect you to understand why I’m doing this, why I’m asking you to give me some time to figure things out, but just know that I’m doing it for you. Eventually, for us.”

Her throat bobbed as she blinked at me, completely silent. There was no recognition, no acceptance of my words. I wanted to beg her to believe me—in me. But I couldn’t make her. I needed it to be on her own accord.

I dipped down and brushed a kiss against her cheek, then a brief one against her lips. She didn’t return it. Instead, she began walking away from me with hollowed eyes.

I called out, “I haven’t seen you wear that jacket in a while.”

Her eyes went to the worn leather. “It comforts me when I need it most.” Voice thick, but context thicker, all I could do was nod and watch her walk away.

I needed her, that much I knew.

More than she needed me, in fact.

And that was comforting—the notion an acceptance like my own leather jacket wrapped around the toughest part of me.

Della would be okay.

Chapter Thirteen

Della

Something smelled good when I closed the large front door behind me and heard paws click-clacking toward me at a fast pace. When I saw Ramsay, a huge smile came over my face. Dropping my things, I bent down and stroked his soft fur as he wiggled his back end and began licking my hand.

“In the kitchen,” Theo called.

I picked up my bag and sketchpad before walking toward his voice, my mouth watering over the decadent smells coming from whatever he was cooking.

“Hey,” he greeted, wiping his hands on a dish towel before walking over to me. I was surprised when he pecked my lips and grabbed my bag, setting it down on the island. “Want something to drink?”