Judy shook off Rick’s hand and stepped from the car. “Sorry about what?”
Meg’s smile grew to a thin line and she offered a half glance over her shoulder toward the house.
Like a video on slow motion, through the doorway of Mike’s home walked her father.
Though Judy never feared her dad, he wasn’t a small man and she’d spent most of her life trying to please him.
“Tell me my mother is here.”
When Meg didn’t say anything, Judy shot her eyes to her best friend.
“Sorry. It wasn’t like I could tell him not to come in.”
Rick stepped around the car and placed his arm around her waist. “How bad can it be?”
Judy wasn’t sure. There weren’t many conversations she’d had with her dad without her mother nearby, yet here her father stood, miles from nowhere, Utah, without an ounce of a smile on his face.
“I’m so out of here!” Meg said, turning her attention to Rick. “I think your Tarzana house has my name on it. Extra rooms, extra beds, lots of cameras. Love ya, Judy, but this is a family matter and I’m not volunteering for any more drama this week.” Meg leaned in, gave a big hug. “Call if you need me,” she whispered.
Judy waved her friend away. “Go. Text us when you get there. This guy is still out there and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”
“I’m good.”
“In the flour container is a Glock, fully loaded.”
Meg hugged Rick. “The fact I’m leaving with the promise of weapons, and you’re staying here, should scare you.”
Judy and Rick faced her father, his frown, and his disapproval as they both walked toward him.
Not a syllable of a hello, or a smile of any kind, her father filled the doorway with a glare centered on Rick. “You’d told me you’d keep her safe. You said nothing about marriage.”
Rick’s fingers squeezed as if to assure her he could handle her dad.
“Keeping her safe means being by her side, Mr. Gardner.”
“So you give up her freedom for your own?”
Rick lifted his chin.
“Dad!”
“This is between him and me.”
“The hell it is.”
Her father shifted his stare to her.
Judy forced a breath deep in her lungs. “Inside. I don’t need this in tomorrow’s papers.” With that, she stepped out of Rick’s arm, past her father, and into the house.
Truth was, her knees knocked, but she strode into the house, dropped her purse on the table in the hall, and moved into the kitchen. She took the single-stem rose, laid it by the sink, and opened the refrigerator. Meg had opened one of the many bottles of wine Mike had on hand and left her half a bottle. Pouring the liquid into a glass, and not even bothering with a wineglass, proved how close to the surface her nerves were.
Judy heard the men walk in behind her. Instead of turning toward them, she looked out the back window, sipped her wine, and asked, “Where’s Mom?”
“She stayed home.”
“Refused to come?”
There was a pause, proving she had the right of it. “I’ve already had one child marry out of convenience or some such bullshit. I wasn’t about to sit around without finding out what’s going on this time.”
Judy turned toward her dad then and Rick stepped closer to her side. “I’m not Mike.”
“No. You’re my daughter.” A portion of her father’s edge chipped away. “What father lets his daughter make lifelong mistakes without trying to stop her?”
Judy set her glass down and took Rick’s hand. She really hoped, no matter what Rick might think about their temporary marriage, that he’d let her do the talking. “Your ability to control my life is no longer in place, Dad. If in fact we’ve made a mistake, it’s ours to make. More importantly, it’s already done.”
When her father met her stare, his glare reminded her of Zach when he wasn’t happy. Or maybe Zach reminded her of their dad. “You were never this difficult before you went to that damn college.”
“You mean before I grew up?”
He growled.
She sighed. “I’m an adult. That might come as a shock to you, but I am.”
“You sound like your mother.”
“Mom’s an intelligent woman. You should listen to her.”
Even Rick glanced over as if she were skating on thin ice.
Seconds passed, and Rick turned to her dad. “How about a beer, Sawyer?”
“Fine.” Her dad pivoted on his heel and marched to the sofa in the den.
Alone, but within earshot of her dad, Judy gripped the counter and tried to keep from trembling.
Rick grabbed a couple of longneck beers and placed them on the counter beside her wine. “He just cares,” he whispered.
“I know. We just don’t need any extra drama right now.”
“Defuse, deflect, or destroy. I think maybe we should go with defuse and deflect.”
Judy leaned into his shoulder with a laugh.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rick encouraged Judy to shower, take a moment to decompress. The tension in the room ranked up there with his first days in the service.
Once Judy disappeared and the sound of the pipes opening up filled the vast emptiness of the huge house, Rick leaned his head back. “I care for your daughter, Mr. Gardner.”
Sawyer grunted.
Rick would have liked to tell the man the depth of those feelings but didn’t think Judy’s dad needed to hear those words before she did. With everything going on in their life, he didn’t want to add any more to hers. He wasn’t sure she felt the same and didn’t think the rejection would sit well with him. If he confessed his love, and she came back with some let’s be friends when this is over bullshit, it would gut him.
Their relationship was fragile on many levels.
“You care for her?” He didn’t sound convinced.
“Yes.” Rick didn’t look at the man, didn’t want him to see his deeper feelings.
“Marriage isn’t supposed to be temporary. I didn’t think I had to tell my children this growing up. Thought it was a given since Janice and I never considered separating.”
Even though neither Judy nor Rick said a thing about their marriage being temporary, seemed Sawyer already came to his own conclusions.
“I cared for her before our life grew complicated. There’s no guarantee anything is temporary.”
“What are you saying, Rick?”