His eyes narrow. “That’s not much of a guarantee, son.”
“No, sir, it’s not.” My voice stays firm despite the hammering in my chest. “I can’t promise we won’t have hard days. But I can promise that I’ll never walk away. That I’ll spend every day trying to be worthy of her. That I’ll put her first—always.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. Then, with agonizing slowness, he leans back in his chair.
“You know,” he says, voice gruff but softer than before, “when she was little, Violet used to say she was going to marry a prince. Had the whole thing planned out—castle, horses, the works.” A hint of a smile touches his lips. “Her mother and I figured she’d grow out of it. I wanted her to be her own, successful, independent woman. And she is.”
He sighs. “Then she became a teenager, and you came along.” He shakes his head. “She thought I didn’t know she was pining after you. A kid with a chip on his shoulder and trouble following him like a shadow. Suddenly, my little girl wasn’t talking about princes anymore.”
My throat tightens. I intentionally stayed ignorant when it came to Violet back then. I was desperate to be near her, but certain I’d only drag her down.
“You weren’t what I wanted for her,” he admits, confirming what I’ve always known. “Not even close. She doesn’tneedyou.”
I nod, accepting the truth of it.
“But,” he continues, his eyes finding mine again, “you’re what she wants. And if I’ve learned anything over the years, despite me trying to push her in different directions, it’s that my daughter knows her own mind.”
He pauses. “There’s a ring. Her grandmother’s. Violet’s admired it her whole life. Her grandmother would have wanted her to have it.”
“Mr. Larkin, I?—”
“Don’t make me regret this,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind the warning. Just the protective concern of a father who loves his daughter. “Take care of her.”
“With everything I have,” I promise. “Thank you, sir.”
He gives a quick nod, then rises from his chair. “Just so we’re clear—you break her heart again, they’ll never find your body.”
I can’t help but smile. “I’d expect nothing less.”
A comfortable silence settles between us, a silent understanding that wasn’t there before. Then he claps me on the shoulder, his hand lingering for just a moment before he moves toward the living room where Violet and her mother are decorating.
I stay behind, letting out a quiet laugh while trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I might’ve just gotten my future father-in-law’s approval, but I’m also certain he’s plotting my untimely, gruesome death in the event I fuck this up. But you know what? I can live with that. I’ve got nothing but time to show that I’m worthy of Violet, and if that means surviving an occasionaldon’t hurt her again or elsestare, then so be it.
The drive home is charged. Violet’s hand is on my thigh, her thumb tracing little circles that make it impossible to think about anything other than her. I catch myself gripping the wheel a little tighter, which is maybe not ideal on these winding roads.
“You’re quiet,” she says, glancing over at me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I manage, but it comes out way too clipped. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Everything’s great.”
And it really is. There’s a small velvet box hidden in my pocket, and it’s taking everything in me not to pull over right now and propose to her on the side of the two-lane highway.
“My dad was almost civil to you today,” she teases.
I chuckle, keeping my eyes on the road. “Yeah, we had a good talk.”
“About what?”
“Oh, you know. Man stuff. Sports. Weather. The proper way to stack firewood.”
She snorts. “Right. Because my father has ever cared about sports.”
“You caught me. We were actually planning my slow and painful demise.”
Her laughter fills the truck cab, bright and perfect. “That sounds more like him.”
“God, I love your laugh,” I admit, reaching for her hand as I turn down our driveway. The gravel crunches beneath the tires, and Bramble’s silhouette appears in the window, already waiting for us.
Violet glances over, that soft smile playing on her lips. “You’re being extra sweet today. Should I be suspicious?”