“Morning,” I murmur, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Good morning,” Shaw returns smoothly.
When the other man isn’t looking, Carson gives me a subtle little shrug. So he doesn’t know what’s going on or why his nemesis has invaded his home turf yet. A little knot of worry starts forming in the pit of my stomach.
The silence in the room grows awkward. No one speaks. Carson and I remain quiet because we’re confused. I can only guess what’s running through Shaw’s head.
“The benefit last night went well. It looked as if the charity will receive a nice payday,” I venture.
Shaw nods with a polite smile. “We won’t have all the details about the final totals until tomorrow, but I suspect this year’s donations will exceed last year’s. The charity does important work, and I’m glad to be a part of it.”
“As am I,” Carson points out. “It’s a cause I believe in.”
“It looks fantastic,” I add to keep the conversation rolling.
“With this year’s funds, they’re hoping to begin some after-school programs for kids and teenagers to keep them safe and off the streets,” Shaw says.
“Then I’ll hope this year’s tally is really fat. Living in Los Angeles, I see a lot on the evening news about what happens in rough neighborhoods when gangs and drugs take over.”
“It’s happening everywhere.” Shaw looks at Carson, hooking his thumb in my direction. “This one has a soft heart.”
“She does, and I wouldn’t want her any other way.”
I hear the subtle warning in Carson’s tone. Shaw didn’t threaten me, merely made an observation. But one reason I love Carson is his protective side. He takes care of me in ways little and big. After having virtually no one to rely on for most of my life, it’s a lovely luxury. I can handle myself—while taking care of my younger sisters, too. But I love the way Carson watches over me.
I cross the kitchen. As I do, he pours me a cup of coffee. With a kiss on my cheek, he hands it over before wrapping his arm around me. I nestle against his body. I don’t like Shaw being here. It feels like an invasion. But being this close to Carson makes me feel safer.
He leans against the counter, keeping me pressed against him. “What brings you here this morning?”
Shaw chuckles. “Technically, it’s afternoon. I’ve been up since six.”
“After a late night, we slept in.” Carson gives him a tight smile.
I refrain from elbowing him in the stomach. Maybe that statement could be taken several ways, but since he’s wearing his bathrobe and still has bedhead, I doubt Shaw misunderstood Carson’s meaning. Why announce to your prospective father-in-law that you spent all night in bed with another woman? Is he making a point—again—that he isn’t attached to Kendra? I’m not convinced another reminder will help Shaw get the concept. He knows. He just doesn’t care.
“As it happens, so has Kendra. I was concerned when she didn’t come home last night. I texted and called… Of course I know she’s a grown woman, but she didn’t mention that she had plans to…go out. But she’s fine.”
“Brayden?” Carson asks.
Shaw clears his throat. “That’s my understanding. She came home about seven this morning looking very…happy. Hours of worry followed by her glowing smile gave me some perspective. Oh, and your very insightful speech at the benefit last night.” He pauses, his smile almost self-deprecating.
I don’t trust it.
“And?” Carson prompts.
“It will take me a moment to explain. If you’ll bear with me…” He turns his attention on me. “You love Frost?”
Carson and I exchange a glance. It’s not as if we haven’t been saying the words to one another all night, but we also haven’t voluntarily shared our feelings with anyone else. They’re new. They’re precious. I know I need to call my sisters and tell them how deeply I’ve fallen. But for right now, what’s in our hearts has just been for us, despite what Shaw overheard.
Still, I’m not going to lie. “Yes.”
Shaw flips his gaze over to Carson. “And you—”
“Yes, I love her, and she knows it. I assume this question has a point?”
“Well, love is in the air, it seems. Kendra tells me she thinks she’s in love, as well.”
I hear the sarcastic drawl in his voice. He doesn’t believe his daughter’s feelings are true. I’m not sure he believes what Carson and I have is real, either.
“Well, if she is, I applaud her. I think everyone deserves to find someone who makes them happy and completes them.” I say the words almost defiantly, as if willing Shaw to admit that he doesn’t believe in love or care about his daughter’s heart.
“If she is, perhaps. But one has to be practical, as well.”
Beside me, Carson tenses. I grip his hand at my waist. Is Shaw really going to give us a speech that love is all good and fine, but money and power are more important?
“I don’t think any amount of money is worth a lifetime of misery, Mr. Shaw. If you had to choose between your fortune and having your late wife back, which would you pick? Have you been happy without her?”
Shaw cocks his head and stares at me with a considering glance before he addresses Carson again. “Beautiful, a big heart, and a smart cookie, too. She’s the real deal.”
But I notice he didn’t actually answer the question.
“Say what you came to say.” Carson sounds curt, on edge.
“Less than ten minutes, and I’m already wearing out my welcome.” Shaw chuckles to himself. “All right. After your speech last night and my daughter’s pleas this morning, I came to change the terms of our arrangement. Far be it from me to keep a pair of lovebirds apart, so if you and Ms. Hope truly want to be together, you can have the venue, catering, flowers, cake—everything I’ve paid for when you and Kendra intended to tie the knot. I’ll give it to you and Ella for free. All you have to do is say ‘I do’ on the day you’d already planned to marry. Then we’ll continue our arrangement as normal. I’ll give you the loan for Sweet Darlin’. You’ll give me a five percent interest until the loan is repaid. And that will be the end of our connection.”
I bite my lip to keep my gasp in. Get married? We haven’t even figured out how to be together beyond my visit here. We haven’t worked out any of the specifics about how we’d spend our lives together. Our relationship is still so new. So are our problems.
Carson’s grip tightens on me protectively. “And if we don’t get married?”
“Well, you always have door number one. You can marry Kendra, as planned. Or…” He smiles as if he’s just been waiting to deliver these words. “You can sign over a ten percent interest—and ten percent of the profits—of Sweet Darlin’ and you’ll never have to repay me.”
I’m shocked. I’m horrified, too. I suspect, given enough time and the right circumstances, Carson and I might naturally want to get hitched. But to have this man coerce us into it within the next two weeks or threaten to take more of the beloved business Carson inherited is outrageous.
I glare at Shaw. “Listen to me, you—”
“No,” Carson says flatly. “Ella’s life—and heart—aren’t for bargaining.”
“So you’d rather marry Kendra? Because I can, with a few choice words, make that happen.”
“You’re her father,” I say in horror. “Why would you force unhappiness on her?”
“Precisely because I am her father,” he bites back. “If I don’t guide her, Kendra will wind up without a career and without a guiding hand to steer her life. She’ll blow through her trust fund in five years and spend the rest of her life penniless and alone after I’m gone. I’d like to prevent that from happening.”
He might have a point about Kendra’s behavior, but I don’t agree with his methods. “If you’re this concerned about your daughter, why push Carson and me to get married? How does that help her?”
“It doesn’t. He’s calling our bluff,” Carson murmurs in my ea
r. “He still thinks we’re putting on an act so I don’t have to marry Kendra. He’s making us put up or shut up.”
Is the guy dense? “But you overheard us admit our love for each other on the dance floor last night.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize he’s merely cynical.