“Threats, maybe. ‘Hurt my dad and I’ll bury you in the woods.’ That sort of thing.”
Lee’s mouth twitches. “Emma already called dibs on the threatening speech. I’m supposed to be the reasonable one.”
“And is this reasonable?”
He pushes off the fence, coming to stand beside me. “After Mom left, he shut down. Went through the motions. Ran the club, raised us, but he wasn’t really there. You know?”
I nod slowly. I’ve seen hints of it—the walls Stone keeps up, the way he deflects anything too personal.
“He’s different with you,” Lee continues. “He laughs. He smiles. He talks about things other than club business.” He meets my eyes. “When you were in the hospital, I thought he was going to burn down the entire county looking for who hurt you.”
“Lee—”
“I’m not warning you off.” His expression softens. “I’m saying thank you. I know you could do better, but…” He takes a breath. “I’m really fucking glad you’re not interested in anyone but him.”
“I mean, if Paul Rudd offered, I might be tempted to run away to Hollywood.”
He grins.
I hip bump him gently. “Your dad is a good man. And he’s raised two awesome kids. You think I’m out of his league, but I don’t see him as anything but the man he is. Protective, smart, funny, and a guy who looks out for those he loves.”
Not to mention exceptional in bed.I don’t say that part aloud, I suspect Lee wouldn’t appreciate the info.
“I guess there’s only one thing left to say.” He gives me an awkward half-hug. “Welcome to the family.”
A warmth spreads through my chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He drops his arm and goes back to watching the party. “Emma’s going to be pissed when I tell her I beat her to the blessing thing. She had a whole speech prepared.”
“I won’t tell her you did it first.”
“Please do. It’s more fun that way.”
He wanders off to join Tank by the grill, and I’m left standing there with a beer I haven’t opened and an unexpected lump in my throat.
Emma finds me twenty minutes later.
“Lee already did it, didn’t he?” She plops down on the picnic bench beside me. “He had that smug look he only gets when he thinks he’s been emotionally mature.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.” But she’s smiling. “Fine. I’ll give you the speech anyway. Ahem.” She clears her throat dramatically. “Josie Bright. You’re the first woman my father has looked at with any kind of interest beyond sexual since Mom left. I was so angry at him for so long—for not being present, for putting the club first, for missing my ballet recitals and forgetting my birthday that one year?—”
“Emma—”
“Let me finish.” She holds up a hand. “But you make him show up. You make him be present. He texts me back now within the same day. He asked about my audition last week. He’s trying, and I think... I think it’s because of you.”
“Can I say something now?”
She waves her hand. “Go ahead.”
“I didn’t make your dad anything.” I turn to face her fully. “Emma, that man has loved you fiercely since the day you were born. I’ve seen how he talks about you—his whole face changes. You and Lee are the center of his world.”
“Then why?—”
“Because he gets lost sometimes.” I keep my voice gentle. “The cut, the president role, the weight of keeping everyone safe—it swallows him whole if he’s not careful. It’s not that he forgets you. It’s that he forgets himself. Forgets the man underneath all the responsibility.”
Emma’s quiet, her jaw tight.
