We haven’t spoken since he saw me with Dutton yesterday. In fact, we haven’t spoken in a couple of days. Do I find it odd that Dutton and I have been friends for a couple of weeks now and my father hasn't asked me about it once? Yes. But I also haven’t brought it to his attention when we do talk, so there’s that. I know he’s heard the rumors, and I wanted to give him space to come to terms with it.
For years, he’s been very open about how he feels about Dutton and the fact that he wants me to stay away from him. He voiced it a lot more when I was a teenager, but the scowl on my dad's face right now says his feelings haven’t changed.
Which is unfortunate, seeing as he’s one of the people we need to convince that Dutton has changed.
Ugh.Convinceisn’t the right word. We need to show it. Duttonhaschanged. It’s time people saw that, including my dad. It’s time people realized how much they’ve misjudged a young kid all these years.
“You've been avoiding me,” Dad says, taking a step closer.
You'd think that with him standing there in his entire uniform, belt and all, I'd be a little intimidated by his attire alone. But he is my dad. Outside of the random dinners wehave together, this is the outfit I've seen him in year after year.
“I'm not avoiding you,” I say as I scrub the counters and, indeed, avoid looking at him.
“Is that why I had to find out at the festival yesterday that you have made a friendship with Dutton Richford?”
“As if you didn't know about it beforehand,” I say as I fiddle with the cups and straighten things on the counters to keep busy.
“Yeah, but this time it came from your mouth.”
I shake my head but don’t say anything.
“Brooke.”
I freeze, slowly turning to look at him. I wait for him to speak first.
“I don't like this.”
“I know you don't.”
“Which is exactly why you didn't tell me about it.”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d tell me not to hang out with him.”
Which would then have led me to not hang out with Dutton and not get the bakery, and I couldn’t have that.
“And I stand by that. You’d know that if you’d talked to me about it first. Instead, you've been hanging out with Dutton in all your free time, not finding five minutes for your dad. You forget this is a small town sometimes, Brooke girl. People talk. Now, tell me the real reason why he's at your house every single night. Are you sure this is just a friendship?”
I pause to think over my words. I can see where someone observing his truck at my house each night would make someone think it’s more than just friends.
“Yes, positive. Dutton and I have never done anything that is more than platonic. In fact, I have him reading a romance novel with me. We're buddy reading.”
I’m not really sure why I just told Dad that. Maybe adding alittle insight as to what we do in my house will help ease his thoughts.
My father holds my gaze.
“He wants more than a friendship.”
“What? Because we're reading a book together?”
“Because he's reading a romance novel.”
“Some guys read romance novels.”
“Yeah, the guys who are looking for more than just friendship read romance novels, especially a romance novel that a woman picks out for them. I don’t trust him.”
I groan. “That's not true.” I fold my arms in front of me. “Men read romance novels all the time and not solely for the purpose of getting into a woman's pants.”
My father shrugs. “So you're telling me that Dutton Richford, a six foot something man who glares at everyone he sees in town and barely shares two words with the locals who aren’t his close friends, is just casually a romance reader.”
