“It doesn’t matter,” Leah said, wringing her hands together. “Really.”
Carter appreciated her trying to keep the peace, but doing that with her irritating stepmother and overbearing father wasn’t doing her any favors in the long run.
“It does matter,” Tim said. “Duncan has invited you, Leah. It’s a matter of politeness, and it would do you good.”
“But I—”
“Mr. White,” Carter said, his annoyance swelling. “How well do you know your daughter?”
“Carter?” Leah said, looking up at him. “Please.”
He ignored her. “Have you?” he directed at Tim. “Ever seen her laugh with delight when she rides the perfect wave to shore? Have you heard her whoop with the sheer joy of being alive when she’s on the back of a Harley, arms spread like wings, the wind in her face?”
“Well, no, I—”
“So how can you possibly know what’s good for her when you don’t know what makes her happy?” Carter glared at the man who clearly saw his daughter as a possession he could manipulate. “Tell me that.”
“Of course, I know what’s good for her.” Tim’s cheeks reddened. “I’m her father.”
Leah was stiff as a board at his side. It was obvious her father was rarely challenged.
“And you, Mr. Harris…” Ellen said, her nostrils flaring. “Are not good for her. How can you possibly think you are? You’re a…”
“Go on, say what’s on your mind.” Despite his annoyance with these stuck-up people, Carter couldn’t help feeling slightly amused by Ellen’s slipping control.
“You’re a biker, clearly a gang member, and of a different ilk from us. Hardly suitable for the mayor’s daughter.”
“Well, at least now I know how you see me.” He squeezed Leah a little closer. “And theilkthat I am knows it’s not polite to tell the hostess what I think of her.”
“Well, I never.” Ellen turned to Tim. “Really.”
“Come on, we’re leaving,” Carter said before Tim could respond. He’d had enough of these people. It was amazing Leah had turned out so normal having spent so much time around them.
Leah didn’t protest, so he took that as an agreement. Not that he would have let her stay if she’d objected.
“But you’ve only just got here, Leah,” Duncan said, stepping closer to her.
It was obvious the guy had intentions with Carter’s woman. The Glock pressed against his spine, begging to be drawn. Not fired, just waved around a little. The look on Duncan’s face would be worth the hassle.
“I’m sorry,” Leah said. She turned to her father. “I’ll call you, Pops. I hope the rest of the day goes well.”
“Leah.” Tim held out his hands. “You cannot be seriously contemplating leaving with this … this … man.”
Carter slipped his hand from Leah’s waist and wound his fingers with hers. She damn well was leaving with him.
Tim’s eye-line went to their linked hands. “In fact, I forbid it.”
Does this guy have a death wish?
“You forbid it?” Carter said, the words coming out like a growl. Leah was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. Highly intelligent. Independent. A professional.
“Yes.” Tim pointed at Carter. “You leave.” His finger directed at Leah. “And you stay.”
Again, the Glock reminded him of its presence. But deep down, Carter knew it would be a bad decision to draw it. Much as he wanted to.
“I’ve had enough of this shit,” Carter muttered, battling to keep his temper in check.
“Carter,” Leah said, looking up at him.