And where the hell have you been for a year was on the tip of my tongue.

But here’s the thing, I’d always had a good relationship with my dad even after Cara.

I’d help him with his basketball camp in the summers, and he’d try his best to be at every football game or rowing event I had. And he’d always been proud of me, especially for my desire to be a doctor. But now? I’d squandered an entire year away, and honestly, he hadn’t really noticed, or at least he hadn’t until this moment.

As if he’d read my thoughts, he said, “I’ve been gone too much when I should have been here more. And, I’m sorry for it. Work and the team was my way of dealing with her death, I guess. But, I’ve made a decision. I’m retiring, selling the team. Maybe focus more on charity work. Maybe I can run a full time charity, do a yearlong camp for kids this time.” He seemed to hold his breath. “Would you like to help me?”

That would be…good.

I nodded, and he patted me on the back, the way men do when they’re emotional, and I cracked a little, leaning into him.

He was all I had left.

Then, I took a breath, preparing myself for a possible shit-storm. “I have something to tell you.”

He arched a brow. “About the pretty girl upstairs?”

Ah, no. And that kinda broke my heart a little. If Dovey had been pregnant, this would be a whole other story. I’d be down on my knees begging her to give me another chance. I’d move the universe for her, if she’d let me be part of her life.

But she wasn’t the one who needed me right now.

“Emma Easton is pregnant.”

He shot up, eyes blazing. Nice dad gone.

“What the hell? What have I told you about using protection? Dammit, we’ve had this conversation a million times.” He paced around the room, hands on his hips.

“I found out today it’s not mine…although it could be, I’m not denying that. I haven’t been with her in several months. Basically, the baby is too young to be mine. Anyway, she’s hurting, and her parents are religious assholes.”

He sat back down, a grim expression. He knew them well since we’d all spent time at the same country clubs and school events.

“Her parents tossed her out tonight when we told them. So she’s staying with a cousin right now, trying to figure out what to do, afraid everyone will find out.” I sighed, held out my hands. “I told her I’d help. I’m all she has.”

Which was sad, but I got it. Emma didn’t have any siblings, just the one relative on her mother’s side who lived in Dallas and hadn’t been exactly thrilled to see us show up at midnight tonight with suitcases and a sob story.

But, she’d taken her in for the moment.

He sighed. “Damn, son. I hope you know what you’re doing. But, whatever you need, I’ll here.” His eyes gentled. “I’m not leaving.”

I nodded and we both sat there gazing into the shrinking fire. Yet as the room grew chillier, I felt warmer than I had in a long time.

Yeah, just yeah.

THE NEXT MORNING, Dad and I were making omelets, something we hadn’t done in a long time, when she sauntered into the kitchen, her hair a mess and a bemused expression on her face as she took us in.

“Morning,” Dad boomed, wearing an old apron, beating the eggs and milk in a bowl. “You want breakfast?”

She nodded shyly.

Dad grinned. “I’m Archie, by the way.”

“Dovey. Nice to meet you,” she said, looking around the kitchen. “Coffee?”

I poured her a cup, watching as she mixed in the cream and sugar and took a big gulp. She moaned. “I’m going to need about ten more of these, just so you know. That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a week.”

My body heated, taking pleasure in that remark.

Dad poured the eggs on the griddle. “Whatcha want in your omlette?”

“Whatever you got, toss it in,” she said with enthusiasm.

Yeah, my girl likes to eat. Nope, not my girl, I reminded myself.

After the food was on the table, we sat down and dug in, and it felt bittersweet to have her in my house and at my table. I kept sneaking looks at her trying to catch her eyes and gauge her emotions, but she was closed off, her face a mask.

Later, when Dad went up to shower, she insisted on loading the dishwasher, and I watched her, wanting to tell her about Emma. But, I’d made a promise to Emma, and I wanted to do right by her. She wanted to wait about telling people until she was ready to confront the two guys who might be the father.

She needed time, she’d said.

“Dad called the garage and got your car fixed last night. It’s parked out front,” I said as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

She blinked, and I wondered if she was battling with that pride of hers. She surprised me though. “That was fast. And sweet. Will you tell him thank you for me? I don’t have the money to pay him now, but I will in a few months.”

He wouldn’t take her money, but I nodded. “Even if he is my dad, I know he’s a good guy, and he likes helping people.” I paused. “How’s Sarah doing?”

She immediately stiffened. “She’s fine, but I need to go home and check on things. And I’ll probably need to teach her ballet class this afternoon because I don’t think she’s up to it.”

“It’s still early,” I added. “Why don’t you stay a while and relax—”

“I can’t,” she said, her face distracted as she checked her messages on her phone.

My insides twisted. I just…I just wanted more time with her.

I found my balls and went with it.

“Let’s hang out today,” I said. “We can go to the movies or go to Portia’s for a cupcake.” I paused, unsure. “I—I remember you like the lemon flavored ones. Especially the icing.” I distinctly remembered me licking it off her lips one night.

Bleakness flickered in her eyes. Making me feel empty, too.

I took a deep breath. “I remember everything we did, Dovey. Every date, every kiss, every whispered word,” I admitted, my voice low, filled with—need? Shit, I couldn’t tell anymore. I just knew I didn’t want her to walk out that door because I sensed something was wrong with her, and she wasn’t telling me.

But maybe she just hated me.