He glares at me. He has no real comeback for that. “He’s so very wrong for you,” he finally snaps.
“He’s completely right for me.”
“You are not leaving this house,” he insists.
I sigh in frustration but then suddenly my mom appears out of nowhere—the only person in the world he will bend for. “Alex.” She places a hand on his arm. “Lucia is a grown woman. As her parents, we allow her to make her own choices, even if we don’t agree with them,” she says softly, reminding him of what he told her when I decided to join the family business.
I see the moment he gives in. The slightest drop in his shoulders is the only outward sign as he continues to glare at me, but how can he argue with his own words? My mom steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Go to bed and I’ll join you shortly,” she says before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.
He looks between us both now then rolls his eyes. He kisses my mom and she releases him from her embrace. Then as I think he’s about to walk away, he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Goodnight,mija,” he says softly before planting a kiss on the top of my head.
“Night, Dad,” I whisper.
I watch him walk away, cursing under his breath in Spanish as he does.
“I’m sorry I made him so mad, Mom,” I say quietly.
“I told you he’s not angry with you, sweetheart. He’s mad at Jax.”
“I wish he wouldn’t be. It’s not like that is all Jax’s fault and I had no part in it,” I say, shaking my head in exasperation.
“I know that. He just needs some time is all.”
“I hope so,” I say because the thought of him always being mad at Jax breaks my heart. I would never forgive myself if I came between the two of them.
“I know so. And in the meantime, I’m always here. No matter what. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper and she pulls me into a fierce hug.
“Love you, kiddo,” she says into my hair.
“I love you too, Mom.”
Once I’m in my car, I call Jax. I am so eager to see him. I need to talk about what happened tonight and how we are going to deal with my father’s disapproval. There is so much to discuss, but more than that, I just want him to hug me and tell me everything is going to okay.
“Hey, Luce,” he says when he answers his cell. “How are you?”
“Hey. I’ve just left. I’m okay. Are you at home?”
“Umm. No,” he replies, sounding a little awkward.
My stomach drops and I feel a huge crushing wave of disappointment. “Oh? I thought—” I start to say but maybe I misheard him earlier when he said he would see me later. Maybe he isn’t as bothered as I am about what happened at my parents’ house, or maybe he has a different way of dealing with it. “Where are you?”
“Sitting in my truck outside your apartment waiting for you to get home,” he replies.
“Oh?” I smile widely and warmth floods my entire body. He’s waiting for me. “I’ll be there soon.”
“See you soon then, Angel,” he says in that soft drawl that makes my heart skip a beat.
When I pull up outside my apartment a short time later, I feel a familiar fluttering in my stomach at the sight of his truck parked outside. Even though I knew he was there, it still hits me like a sledgehammer. By the time I park up and get out of my car, he is out of his truck, leaning against it with his arms folded. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt that shows off his huge tattooed forearms and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to mount him in the street.
I walk toward him and as soon as I’m within touching distance, he pulls me into his arms.
“Have you been here all night?” I ask.
“Not all night.” He winks at me. “But for over an hour.” He bends his head low and kisses that spot on my neck that makes my thighs tremble. When he lifts his head again, his face is full of concern. “Are you okay?”