Page 134 of Worth the Risk

Fuck you, Claire.

I yank open the door.

“What do you . . .” My words fade as I finish with a weak, “want?”

It isn’t Claire’s dad standing on my porch. Far fucking from it. It takes a second for that to register and then another for it to hit. The resemblance is there. He may have silver hair at his temples and a hulking figure that makes the porch seem tiny, but his eyes are brown and the same almond shape as Sidney’s.

Relief flickers momentarily and then falls flat as memories come back. Claire’s dad at the door. His threatening words. His condescending voice. The way he wouldn’t even look at his own goddamn grandson.

“Can I help you?”

Why are you here?

He’s going to ask me to leave Sidney alone.

He’s going to tell me to go to hell.

“Grayson Malone?”

His voice. Aristocracy lilts in his tone, and I square my shoulders.

“Can I help you?” I repeat. We stare at each other. Measure each other. Judge.

“Frank Thorton. Nice to meet you.”

I stare at the hand he extends and hear my father say, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.” Yet, all I want to do is look. All I want to do is stare.

All I want to do is question.

Reluctantly, I shake his hand, leery and cautious as I wait for whatever shoe might drop.

“Likewise, Mr. Thorton,” I murmur.

“Call me Frank,” he says with a definitive nod.

The expensive suit is something Claire’s dad always wore, but the warm smile that slowly spreads across Frank’s face is anything but.

“Frank,” I say.

“I’m sure you’re curious as to my sudden appearance on your doorstep.”

“You could say that.” I should invite him in, but I hesitate.

“It seems to me you’ve made quite an impression on the readers of Modern Family . . . and on my daughter.”

Every part of me tenses as I wait for the words. She’s too good for you. You’re not the type of man we have picked out for her. And on and on. The Hoskins’ comments ring in my ears all this time later.

“I assure you it was unintentional.” I laugh, nerves suddenly running side by side with my caution. Is he going to tell me I can’t see his daughter? Is he going to warn me away from her just when I’ve realized I don’t want to live without her?

“May I ask you what your intentions are?” He shifts his feet, but his eyes hold mine.

“My intentions?” I sound like an idiot, but fuck if I don’t feel like I’ve been brought back to ten years ago. This time, though, I know just how brutal the fallout is. I know just how devastating the woman you love leaving is.

“Yes. How are you going to win the contest and end up with Sidney without it looking as if the contest was rigged?”

I stare at him for a beat, blinking and trying to work out what he’s saying. He has the look of a father who wants answers, not a businessman wondering about the integrity of his business, so I know where this conversation is headed.

“I already dropped out of the contest.”