“Man lives three days not knowing where his daughter is,” Barry replied. “Three days not knowing if she’s eating. Not knowing if someone’s touching her. Not knowing if she’s dead in a ditch. Torture, Jacob. Utter torture made worse by looking at my wife, my boys, my other little girl, knowing they have the same thoughts eating away their brains. We got her back, we went on but we never recovered. You don’t. You don’t forget that feeling. You wake up tasting it in your mouth and you go to bed and send your thanks to God you got through the day and she’s somewhere you know where she is, sleeping safe.”

“I can’t imagine, Barry, and I don’t want to,” Deck said truthfully, holding his eyes.

“No. You don’t. But what I’m saying is, not one thing is going to harm my baby girl. Not again. I like you, Jacob. I respect you. I got the feeling you’re a good man, and I’m rarely wrong about that. And she likes you too, a great deal, years ago, but now, it’s a whole lot more. So if you hurt her, I will break you.”

“Again, I know what happened to her. You don’t know me well but I’ll tell you straight. I would not be at this table with you coming from where I just came from, knowing what I know Emme endured, knowing the woman your daughter is, how I feel about her, taking us where we are and leading us where I want us to be if I wasn’t very serious about being on that path.”

Barry’s gaze didn’t waver from Deck’s for long moments before he nodded.

“You’ll take no offense,” Barry stated, ending it.

“Absolutely,” Deck agreed.

He should have expected it just because Barry was the man he was. And that was a man who loved his daughter and took care of her no matter what her age. In other words, he argued about the bill that night and only backed down when he took a good look at Deck’s expression and the bulk of his frame. But when he backed down, he did it only slightly.

He was a man like Deck. No one paid for his meal. No one paid for his girl.

They split the bill.

Barry kept talking.

“As her father, I got to let her be free to live her life, make her decisions and make her mistakes. As her boss, the same. As both, I got to give her the freedom to share about her decisions or her mistakes if she feels she needs to do that. Emme’s her own girl, and I reckon you had an interesting conversation this morning but tonight you both made it clear there are no hard feelings. I appreciate the respect you’re giving her by making a promise and keeping it. But as just her father sitting at three thirty in the morning at her kitchen table with the man who’s making my baby girl his, I got to know how worried I need to be about what I don’t know.”

“I’m not a father. I can’t answer that. But I reckon whatever I say is not going to make you worry any more or less than you already are. The only thing I can tell you is I’ve shared my concerns with the right people, including Emmanuelle, and she’s got a lot of eyes on her, including mine. That’s all I have to give now, Barry, and I hope you can accept that.”

Barry sighed before he stated, “I’m getting the impression this is new for you two, so I hope in return you don’t mind me cramping your style because I’ll be taking more frequent trips to Gnaw Bone, Jacob. Not because I don’t trust you. But when it comes to Emme, it’s just what I got to do.”

“Understandable.”

“I’ll give you space but I’ll be around.”

“We’ll work with that.”

“And, you need me to, you two go on a date or something, I’ll watch your dog because he’s a cute, droopy bugger.”

Deck smiled. “Might take you up on that.”

Barry nodded. Then he patted a hand palm flat on the table before he got up and walked his cup to the sink.

He turned around and declared, “Maeve tells me she has nightmares about this kitchen.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Deck replied, still smiling.

Barry smiled back. “I’m gonna hit it and try again to sleep. See you in the morning, son.”

“Good night, Barry.”

“Night, Jacob.”

Barry walked out. Deck picked up his book, turned out the lights and went to the family room to settle in.

He opened his book making the decision to speak with Emme, tell her what happened with her dad and encourage her to lay it out so Barry had the information he needed to focus his attention and his worry.

Then he put his eyes to his book and read.

When the time was right, he stopped reading, switched out the lights, walked upstairs and slid back into bed with Emme, woke her gently then proceeded to do things to her where he had to use his mouth to stifle the noise.

Chapter Eleven

Give-and-Take

Deck heard his garage door go up and he grinned at his stove.

And he was grinning because he gave Emme a remote.

He heard claws on the floor then he heard a door open.

After that, he heard Emme’s voice, crying, “Hey, puppy!” and his grin turned into a smile.

At hearing that, it was not lost on Deck that he could hear that same thing every night, Monday through Friday, heralding Emme was home. Her smile and eyes over dinner. Later, her body in his bed.

This would absolutely not suck.

On this thought, his smile got bigger.

There were long moments where he suspected there was a rubdown and tail wags before he heard claws on floor, this time coming back, and he twisted to look over his shoulder. Therefore he saw Emme rounding the wall that led to the open-space great room that included dining room and kitchen.

Her eyes came to him, they lit with warmth but she dumped her purse on the bar, slumped her shoulder so her overnight bag fell to the floor then she shrugged both shoulders to take off her jacket and throw it on a barstool.

She then put her hands to the bar and announced, “My dad the father was not pleased his daughter chose a felon to date. My dad the boss was not pleased the manager of his lumberyard dated an employee. He chewed me out.”

He’d told her about his conversation the night before with Barry and advised her to come clean. She told him she would.

She obviously did.

The look on her face told him she might have been chewed out but everything was okay.

Plans that night were that Emme had her talk with Barry then Barry was giving them space, staying at her place while they spent the night at his. He wasn’t leaving until after the weekend. Maeve was coming up on Thursday. She was doing this likely because she was worried about her daughter. She was also doing it likely because she was curious about Deck being her daughter’s new man.

“Come here, Emme,” Deck ordered.

She didn’t come there. Her eyes went to the stove and they lit with a different light.

“What’s that I smell?”

“Murgh makhani. Pilau rice. And naan bread that’s going to become cheese naan soon but it’s gonna suck because I don’t have a tandoor.” He told her and finished with, “But we’ll make do.”

Her eye drifted from the stove to him. “What’s murgh makhani?”

“Indian butter chicken.”

Her face got close to the look it got when he slid his c**k inside her.

He was about to order her to come to him again when she went on.

“What’s a tandoor?”

“A traditional Indian clay oven.”

“I’m getting you one of those for Christmas,” she declared.

Deck burst out laughing.

When he stopped, she was smiling at him.

“Come here, Emme.”

Finally, she hauled her ass to him.

He pulled her into his arms for a quick kiss and when he lifted his head, she stated, “I’m not joking about Christmas. My sister lives in India. I’m going to ask her to send me one.”

“It’ll probably cost a mint to send it here but, just sayin’, it will not go unused.”

Her eyes slid to the stove then back to his. “I hope not. That smells awesome.”

He kept an arm around her, turned her to tuck her into his side and went back to the stove after kissing her temple.

“I brought my bathing suit,” she informed him.

“Won’t need it,” he informed her.

Her arms, both around his middle, gave him a squeeze and a slight shake.

“Jacob, honey, I want to go swimming because I want to go swimming and because I feel it’s my environmental duty to use that pool as often as I can seeing as you’re wasting so much energy to heat it.”

He looked down at her. “I didn’t say we weren’t going swimming. I said you won’t need your suit.”

Her face changed, her eyes drifting half closed and he felt her body shiver.

“And I also didn’t tell you, murgh makhani comes with my personal label ale and leads into turtle sundaes,” he continued.

At that, her body melted into his side.

“Awesome food, homemade beer and skinny-dipping,” she whispered. “Have I told you I like you today?”

“No. You told me you really like me,” he contradicted, and she did, that morning, about thirty seconds after she watched him come, which was after he made her come.