“I ate.”
“You had coffee.”
“That counts.”
“No, it does not.”
Beast looked at me for help.
I lifted both hands.
“I’m staying out of this.”
“Coward,” he muttered.
I smiled.
“Probably.”
Dad stepped down from the ladder.
Wiped his hands on his jeans.
Then looked at Beast.
“You did good.”
Beast went still.
The room got quieter.
Dad was not a man who handed out praise easily.
Especially not to men standing in his kitchen beside his daughter.
Beast looked at him.
“Thank you.”
Dad nodded once.
Then looked toward me.
His expression softened.
“You make her happy.”
Beast’s eyes found mine.
Something warm moved through my chest.
“I plan on keeping it that way,” Beast said.
Dad held his gaze for a long moment.
Then he nodded again.
“Good.”
