“Father, how are you?”
He never answered me. All he did was stare at my face, studying my expression like he’d never seen me before. We went months without seeing each other sometimes since we lived so far away from one another. So when he did see me, it was always with this same kind of inspection. “Better now.” My father greeted his clients and friends with just looks. His brother was his best friend, and I’d never seen them hug in my life. My father hardly extended a handshake, even to his clients. But he’d always been different with us. It was the only time he showed affection. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me.
I hugged him back. It didn’t matter how old I was. I would always live for the approval of my father. His pride meant a lot to me. He was the biggest role model I’d ever had. He expected a lot of me.
He held me for a long time, like he always did. Even if there were people around, he did the same thing. Then he pulled away, cupped the back of my head, and planted a kiss on my forehead.
Mom’s smile widened.
He patted me on the arm and turned away. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
I watched his strong shoulders shift as he walked. He was over six feet tall, and the day I’d reached his height, I knew it made him choke up a bit. “Yeah, it is.” I watched him grab my mother’s hand and walk inside after Vanessa.
I joined them a second later.
* * *
Father and I walked to the fence where Carbine grazed. He had his own plot of land, separate from the mares because he was territorial and aggressive. Marco had extensive experience, but even he struggled to control the stallion. I told him Muse wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near Carbine because it was way too dangerous.
Dad stopped at the fence and clicked his tongue.
Carbine raised his head from the grass, his ears twitching. He turned his head our way, his mane flowing in the slight breeze. His large brown eyes settled on us, and he gave a quiet neigh before he trotted to us.
Dad smiled as he eyed the horse. “Beautiful steed.” He held out the carrot.
Carbine stuffed it down in a few bites.
Dad scratched him behind the ear. “He’s looking good.”
“Very.” I ran my hand up his snout, feeling the short hair that shifted under my fingertips. His warm breaths fell over me, and the sound of horse flies accompanied him. His dark hair was shiny under the hot sun, and his beautiful black form contrasted against the white fence and the green grass.
“Marco does a good job?”
“Yes.” But Muse had been doing a great job as well. Marco told me she busted her ass around the stables, shoveling shit and restocking hay like she was born a country girl. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty or put in a hard day of labor. Marco loved having her around, and it made his job a million times easier—and more enjoyable.
It made me more fascinated with her. She was a strong woman with a lot of potential. It really was a shame she’d gotten mixed up with such bullshit. Her brother was dead, but I wanted to kill him anyway.
He deserved to die twice.
We stared at the horse for a few more minutes before we walked up the path back to the house.
“Do you ride often?” He walked beside me with a perfectly straight back, carrying himself like a man in his twenties rather than his sixties.
“Haven’t had time.”
“I know how that is.”
“How’s the wine business?”
“Good,” he answered. “Business is good.”
“And Uncle Cane?”
“A dumbass, like always.”
I chuckled because I knew he didn’t mean that. “Aunt Adelina?”
“She’s good too. She’s not a dumbass.”
“Lucky for him.”
We’d left Mom and Vanessa on the patio, where they drank sangria and lay by the pool as they waited for Dante to prepare lunch.
“So you’re in town for business?” I asked.
“There’s a restaurant owner up here that wants to start hosting weddings. So we talked about a deal where he could have a collection of wines by the barrel. He makes a commission, and I make a commission.”
“Sounds like a good deal.”
“How’s the fashion business? Your mom and I watched the show a few weeks ago. It was great.”
My dad never seemed awkward about my livelihood. He must have known what my lifestyle was like, but he never asked me about it. I was almost thirty and unmarried, but neither of my parents asked about my desire to start my own family. I knew my parents had been my age when they got together. Before that, it didn’t seem like either of them had had any significant relationships.
When we reached the terrace, my heart stopped in my chest.