In Bed with the Beast (Naughty Princess Club 2)

I hear laughter and I shake my head in complete confusion.

“We’ve got our pitchforks and torches and we’re going to burn that beast’s house down for hurting you!” he shouts through the phone.

My mouth drops open in shock as I run back into my room, quickly grabbing a dress from my bag on the floor.

“What the hell are you talking about?! Dad, where are you?” I ask, putting the call on speaker and tossing my phone onto the bed while I yank off my pajama bottoms.

“We don’t actually have pitchforks and torches, Mr. Reading. That was just a figure of speech,” I hear Ariel tell him.

“So, we’re not stabbing him or lighting anything on fire?” my dad asks her.

“Uh, no. But, I mean, we could always stop at the store or something.”

“There’s no time,” my dad sighs. “What a pity. Anyway, Belle, the important thing is that we’re storming his castle and we’re defending your honor! No one makes my little girl cry and gets away with it!”

Flinging off my T-shirt, I quickly pull my dress over my head and scoop up my phone.

“Dad, don’t you dare do anything stupid! Stay away from Vincent’s house!” I shout.

I hear more laughter, and then the call disconnects.

“Son of a bitch!” I shout, quickly pulling up the Uber app.

It looks like I’m going to have to see Vincent whether I’m ready to or not. This is just what I need right now. A bunch of crazy people going over there and threatening a guy who could squash all of their heads like nuts if he gets pissed off enough.

Chapter 33: I Tamed the Beast

I didn’t think anything could hurt worse than walking away from Vincent and his home a week ago, but pulling down the driveway and seeing the place where I grew and thrived and turned into a strong, independent woman who thought she’d found the man of her dreams hurts almost as much.

I’m honestly surprised I don’t see people fighting on the front porch when I get out of the vehicle, and if it wasn’t for seeing my dad’s car parked next to Vincent’s truck, I might have thought the phone conversation I had a little bit ago was a dream.

The entire way down the stone walk and up the porch, I argue with myself about whether I should knock or just walk right in. For weeks I walked through those doors freely, but now I feel like a stranger. Thankfully, I don’t have to make that decision when the door is flung open as soon as I get to the porch.

“It’s about time you got here!” my dad greets me, with a smile and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“What are you doing?!” I whisper loudly, hearing laughter coming from inside the house.

“We’re having coffee. What are you doing?” he replies, taking a sip from his mug.

“Dad!” I shout, trying really hard not to stomp my foot. “What happened to storming the castle and defending my honor?”

Not that I really wanted them to do any of that, but finding my father standing casually in Vincent’s doorway, and hearing my friends laughing inside the house, is definitely not what I expected to find. At the very least, I thought there would be loud shouting. Maybe a few things broken. But glancing behind him, I see nothing is amiss.

“Eh, it sounded fun in theory. And believe me, I gave that man a good, stern talking to. Ariel even punched him in the stomach. That was fun to watch, let me tell you!” my dad chuckles. “It was like watching a house fly punch an elephant. She’s busy icing her hand, in case you were wondering. She’ll be fine.”

I’m about two seconds away from screaming at the top of my lungs when Vincent gently pushes my dad out of the doorway, and my heart drops right down into my stomach.

Seeing him again after a week feels like breathing again after being without air for entirely too long. I want to gasp and press my hand over my rapidly beating heart, but I can do nothing except stand staring at him. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, and he looks as miserable as I feel.

I’ve missed his face. I’ve missed the way he takes up an entire doorway, and I’ve missed the way he looks at me like he’ll never get tired of it. I’ve missed the smell of his skin and how safe I feel when he wraps his arms around me. I miss how confident and sexy he always made me feel, even when I was wearing an old T-shirt and ratty pajama bottoms. I even missed him ordering me around and being overly protective of me. I just plain miss him, and right now, everything else seems trivial. Regardless of the huge secret he kept from me, I do trust him. I trust him with my life, and I trust him with my heart.