Knowing that he was shaken up made me feel better. I didn’t feel quite so crazy. Or alone. I reached my hand up.
He yanked me to standing. “I admit I’m having a hard time and she’s finally smiling?” Dastien said.
I chortled and it felt really good.
The back door slammed. Dad walked down the back steps in his work clothes. Even in this heat he wore a suit.
“Just what in the hell are you doing to my daughter that she runs—runs—the whole way home from school?” His tie hung loose around his neck. “You’re supposed to be taking care of her because apparently we can’t and it seems to me you’re doing a shit job of it!”
Mr. Dawson tried to step in front of us, but I skirted around him.
“Dad!” I swallowed him in a hug. He smelled good, even if it was an overwhelming mess of things—anger, dryer sheets, shampoo, relief.
He pulled away and looked at my face. “You okay?”
“I’m okay.”
He kissed my forehead.
“Your mother called me. She’s worried about you.” He handed me a pair of white gloves.
I put them on. “Didn’t seem like she was too worried. She called Mr. Dawson to come get me.”
“Tessa. Your mother loves you very much, but we have to do what’s best for you. We’re both struggling to figure out what that is. How to handle this…” Dad looked beyond me and tried to push past. “I thought we agreed he would stay the hell away from my daughter.”
Michael shoved his hands in his pockets. “I said he would, unless he was her mate. And he is.”
“What is this bullshit! You can’t marry off my daughter. She’s only seventeen.”
I stepped in front of him, but he moved me to the side. I was scared to push him back. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt him.
“Calm down, Dad. You know I’m going to be eighteen really soon.” He had a right to be upset. Hell, I was still a little upset. But I didn’t want him to yell at Dastien.
“No one is going to make her marry me tomorrow. I would never force her to do anything she didn’t want,” Dastien said. “I know that’s a lot coming from me. I can’t ever take back what I did, but I hope eventually you’ll be able to forg—”
Dad’s face turned a bright shade of red. “You can get the hell off my property. Now.”