“Leaving here was hard for me, you have to know that. I love this place. Always have, always will.” Talking like this wasn’t easy. We didn’t share, but Addie was right. We needed to stop blowing up at each other and fucking talk. I had to tell him what I was thinking, fuck, feeling, or we’d never get anywhere.

He crossed his arms and leaned on the workbench. “Didn’t look that hard from where I was watching.”

“It might’ve looked that way, but I promise you, it fucking cut.”

His gaze slid away from me. “Then why’d you leave?”

That was the first time he’d ever asked me. “I wanted to travel, see new places, meet new people. After Mom and the girls left, I knew me leaving as well would be a shitty fucking thing to do, and I hated myself for it, for even thinking about it for a long time, but I wasn’t happy.”

He sipped his beer but didn’t say anything.

“I think you could see it, that I was struggling?” Fuck, this was hard.

His broad shoulders shifted under his flannel shirt, and he looked up from his boots. “You were a little low, that’s all—”

“No, Dad. I was a fuck of a lot more than that.”

His deep brown eyes met mine. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you.” I leaned against the door. “In a lot of ways, we’re the same, so I know this is hard for you to understand. You love this mountain, you like the quiet, the solitude. And don’t get me wrong, I do too, but not all the time. I needed more—not because this isn’t enough. But only because I like being around other people,” I quickly added before he took that as a jab at him. “I know you never got my love of drawing and ink, but the way you feel when you’ve been out checking on stock or hunting, or after a day here in the workshop, I feel after tattooing someone, after they walk out of the shop with my design on their skin. It makes me feel fucking good, Dad. I need that just as much as I need this mountain.”

He cleared his throat, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“How could you? We don’t talk about the important stuff.”

He looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want him feeling like shit. We were as bad as each other. “I want to build a place of my own here because this is my home. I miss it, and it feels right when I’m back. One day, I wanna bring my old lady to our cabin here, our kids, if I have ’em. A place close to you. So you can spend time with your grandbabies and my woman can spoil you with chocolate chunk fucking cookies.”

The old man smirked. “Like that, is it?” He tilted his head to the house. “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

“Probably.” I shoved my fingers through my hair. “But I’m not gonna let that stop me.”

He grinned. “She know you’re planning on tying her down and putting a baby in her?”

“Not yet,” I said, but she would when the time was right.

I took in my father as he swiped another cookie. For once, we weren’t yelling at each other. No, for once, he actually looked…happy. Who knew all we needed to do was talk and eat fucking cookies?

Addison, that’s who.

“Addie’s making stew. You coming to the house soon?” I didn’t want to push it. I’d said more than enough for now.

He swiped the last cookie. “Well, I am now. If her stew’s half as good as her cookies, I’m not missing out. Been a while since someone cooked for me.”

I inwardly sighed in fucking relief as we headed back to the house. Now, I just had to try not to say anything to piss him off for the rest of the visit and we’d be okay.

Tags: Sherilee Gray Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net