Ben grinned. All these years the Beast had lived in his castle alone, a man at the top of his field—friendless. Even in boarding school, he’d held himself aloof. Ben and Quin were the only two he’d sit with during meals.
Quin must have picked up on the shade of loneliness in the man too, because he rubbed his hands together and said, “We’ve played your game. Why don’t you let us show you and Bella how the Wilaby brothers have fun?”
Adam laughed, a deep rumbling sound that startled the prosecutors loitering at the table next to them. “I’ll talk to Bella. I think we might enjoy that.”
“Good.” Ben clapped him on the back and turned to go but was stopped by his father’s angry glare.
“I hate you,” Dad ground out between his tobacco-stained teeth.
Ben had hardly spared the man a glance over the day. He took a good look at him now, seeing the hard-etched lines in his skin, the hair loss filled in with some kind of powder to hide it, and the way his suit hung limply on his frame.
Dad’s chosen way of life left its mark on the man. In ten years, Ben could pass him on the street and not recognize him. He hoped he never saw him again. The man from his youth who’d hauled his boys across the country to inspect parks was a better man. The kind of father Ben wanted to be for his daughter.
A hundred biting remarks thundered through Ben’s mind, each one more cutting then the last. But the words that came out were full of truth. “I feel sorry for you.” He did. He felt sorry that his dad would never know the joy of pushing Savannah on the swings when she was five and innocent. He’d never spend a Christmas morning full of happy squeals and wrapping paper. He’d never see his son walk his granddaughter down the aisle—though Ben could wait for that one. “What you’re chasing after will always leave you unhappy and dissatisfied.”
Dad narrowed his eyes and worked his mouth. His thin lips pressed out as if he were going to spit on Ben. He didn’t spit. He said, “You are no longer my son.”
Quin leaned over Ben’s shoulder. “It’s not like we consider you a father anymore, so …” He shooed Dad away.
Dad stormed out of the room. The blonde trotted after him, her heels clicking in step with her chewing.
Ben hugged Quin from behind. “I cannot tell you how great it feels to be free of him.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” Quin let him go, and they shook hands all around.
“Sir?” Gibbs approached, his head down inviting confidence. “You’re late.”
“Late?” Ben wasn’t late; he was floating. They’d finally shaken off the deadwood scent of their father. What could go wrong in life?
“For your …” Gibbs turned his back to the group and lowered his voice. “Date.”
Ben leaned back, sizing Gibbs up with a glance. The man wouldn’t joke, but for the life of him …Shoot! “I have to go.” He said the world’s fastest goodbyes and broke into a light jog in the hallway. “The car?” he asked Gibbs, who wheezed just behind his left shoulder.
“In front.”
He shoved through the doors and ran down the steps. Gibbs yanked open the door and dashed around to the driver’s side.
“How late am I?” Ben slammed the door shut behind him.
“Ten minutes.”
Ben cursed. “This is bad form, Gibbs.”
“Yes, sir.”
He pulled up the blasted app on his phone. He hadn’t been looking forward to this little experiment, but when the algorithm had matched him with an Avery Croft who enjoyed roller coasters and baking, he’d been intrigued. Her profile picture was as vague as his. She was looking in a mirror and the picture was taken from behind, so her reflection was blurred. Still, her long, dark hair with enough natural curl that it had volume was beautiful. Her olive skin, pink lips, and defined cheekbones gave her an exotic flair. He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were. Green? Gray? She was a natural beauty, one that didn’t need mounds of makeup.
His first thought was, What does a woman like that need a dating app for? She could have dozens of men hanging on her every word, and yet there she was, online. He glanced at his watch—ifshe was still at the restaurant by the time he arrived. “Faster, Gibbs.”
Gibbs’s answer was a surge from the engine as he pressed down on the gas.
Chapter Four
Avery
Hattie’s Hat was not a big chain restaurant; the character and eclectic décor couldn’t be duplicated time and again. There was one hat on the wall, a reddish-purple concoction that could have been there before Avery knew she was going to be a mother. The dining room was overseen by a long bar along one wall that belonged on a pirate ship, with ornate scrollwork and an aged mirror. Booths lined the wall opposite the bar, and a privacy wall shielded tables from those who came in through the front door. Avery’s heart stammered at the thought that her date could be on the other side of that wall, waiting expectantly to find the love of his life.
She scoffed at her drama queen thoughts. It was unlikely the man was after more than Hattie’s famous fish and chips.
