“I can only imagine,” John said gently before nudging the topic toward another path. “I saw that you and Peanut made thecrib. I’d have told you what a good job you did if you hadn’t made yourself so scarce.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think it would be so satisfying to make it myself, but now that I’ve done it…”
“Have you really never had to do a manual job for yourself?”
“Nope.” I shook my head, laughing. “Woodworking and furniture building weren’t skills my parents saw fit to learn or pass on to me. I had everything handed to me in that regard.” I paused for a second, staring at my drink. “But that’s not the life I want for my child.”
John’s eyebrows rose. “Explain.”
“When Clover talks about her childhood, she talks about how involved you were. You were working, but no matter what, you were there for every milestone. You’ve taught Clover her worth, gave her amazing confidence, and raised an amazing woman.”
“Thank you. We tried our best,” John said, his chest puffing up with pride.
“My dads loved me in their own way, but they weren’t around much. My every need was taken care of—I had nannies and chefs and all that stuff.”
“But what about your emotional well-being?” John asked with a frown.
“Mom tried. I don’t think my dads really considered that until we were adults,” I admitted. “That’s not very nice to say, I suppose, but?—”
“It’s how you feel,” John interrupted. “I’d hope they were doing their best in the only way they knew how, but even someone’s best can fuck things up, and that’s never more true than with parenting. I guess that explains a lot about you.”
“That doesn’t make what I did okay, though,” I said. Running a hand through my hair, I looked around the kitchen, not wanting to meet his stern but concerned gaze. John was surprisingly good at getting me to spill my guts about my deepemotional issues with my family in a way I had never been able to with my own.
“But it’s good that you recognize it’s not okay. I won’t lie—we came here expecting to take Clover home with us.”
My mouth went dry at his words. I had no doubt that he would have taken his daughter and gone back to Seattle, but the thought of that made me break out in a cold sweat.
“Until this conversation,” John continued, “that was my plan, regardless of her bargain with you all to give things a month.”
“And now?”
“Parker, how do you feel about Clover?”
“I…” HowdidI feel? Obviously I craved her—though I wasn’t saying that out loud to her father—but the rest? “I think she’s a good fit for the others. She matches Avery in his chaos, Logan adores her, and Hunter might actually work less with her being around.”
“Parker,” John said firmly, “that’s not what I asked.”
I wilted under his gaze. I was probably losing his respect by the second, if I’d ever even had it. “I don’t know.”
I bristled at his sigh.
“You owe yourself honesty. I think you’re a good kid, Parker. You acknowledge what you did wrong, and you’re working toward making amends, but that’s all going to come to nothing if you can’t come to the truth inside yourself. Now, I’ll ask you again, and if I don’t hear the truth come out of your mouth, this conversation will be over. Got it?”
“Got it.” My throat felt like a fucking desert.
“How do you feel about Clover?”
“I like being around her,” I began carefully, “even when she frustrates me, and even more when she challenges me. I think my life would be worse without her in it. She’s like a puzzle box I’m desperate to figure out, and not because she’s mysterious;it’s closer to her being a new language I have to learn, but I like the way it feels and sounds. I want tokeeplearning her. Maybe I’ll never learn it all, or maybe she’ll get sick of me before I have the chance. She taught me that effort is what’s important, so I guess I’m hoping she won’t change her mind on that, that she’ll see me trying and it’ll be enough.”
“And what’s a word that encompasses all that?” John asked with a satisfied smirk. “Maybe starts with L?”
My heart was going to beat right out of my chest at this rate. “I can’tsaythat. She’d probably push me into our succulent garden.”
John stood imposingly next to me and opened his arms, waiting until I awkwardly rose and accepted the hug I hadn’t expected. He squeezed me hard, like he was trying to heal the cracks left over by the absence of my dads growing up. I wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel like a few of them filled in.
“Clover likes plain statements,” John said as he stepped back, leaving his hands on my shoulders. “Figure your shit out, so you can have the life you want. I’d hate for her to walk away because you were too scared to talk to her about what really matters.”
I could do that. I needed Clover to be near. The thought of her walking out of our lives made me queasy. Even though we weren’t bonded, I seriously doubted I would survive the distance, doubly so if my pack blamed me for her leaving. I would probably end up losing my mind, flying to Seattle, and camping on their front lawn so I could be near her if that happened.
