It surprised Denver, but he didn’t mind. He clapped his dad on the back, gave him a second to compose himself, and stepped away.
Pamela flitted around, uncertain, looking like she thought Denver might accuse her at any moment. “Could I get either of you something to drink?”
Gaze averted, Lyle said, “He remembers where the fridge is, honey.”
“I’m fine,” Denver told her. “Cherry?”
“Maybe just water?”
Before Pamela could leave, his dad spoke up. “I’d like to talk to Denver alone a moment. Why don’t you ladies go on out back and we’ll be there shortly.”
Worried, because Denver didn’t want her out of his sight, he turned to Cherry but she was already agreeing. “I’d love to see your home, if that’s okay.”
As if someone had just given her a reprieve, Pamela jumped to agree. “I’ll show you around. We can get to know each other better, then grab some drinks on the way out.”
Cherry gave him one last smile before following Pamela from the entry.
“She’s charming,” Lyle said.
Denver nodded. “Smart, sexy, funny.” He gave his dad a direct look. “I’m in love with her.”
That brought another smile to Lyle’s mouth. “She feels the same about you?”
“I think so. We haven’t talked about it yet.”
By tacit agreement, they headed for the office. “What’s there to talk about? You haven’t told her how you feel?”
“Not yet. There’s been a lot going on. But we’re getting there.”
Once in the room, Lyle shut the door and walked to a small built-in fridge. “Can you have a beer?”
“Sure.”
“You have a fight coming up, right?”
“Yeah, but one drink won’t hurt.” Denver accepted the bottle, went to the couch and sat down. The material was different, he realized. Then, looking more closely, he saw that the office had been painted, the large area rug changed.
Watching him, Lyle leaned back on the edge of his desk. “I know, it’s all different. Pamela has changed so many things.”
“Women like to make things their own.” Denver shrugged. “She lives here now.” His problem with his stepmother had never been her decorating choices.
No, the problems went a lot deeper than that.
“I still love her,” Lyle announced.
Denver thought about shrugging again, but he didn’t want to be that disrespectful so he did nothing at all.
“I’ve made many mistakes,” his father added. “I’d just lost my wife, you were grown and didn’t need me.”
Denver barely kept from making a rude noise. A son always needed his father, but damned if he’d say so.
Lyle ran a hand through his graying hair. “I guess I had a stupid midlife crisis.” His gaze met Denver’s. “But I do love her—faults and all. I want to make it work with her. But first I need to make it work with you.”
More uncomfortable by the moment, Denver shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“You’re my son and I love you. These past years without you...” He paced away, came back, picked up his beer and put it down again. Finally he jerked around to face Denver. His shoulders were tight, his brows drawn in remorse. “Pride is a mean sonofabitch. I never should have doubted you. You’re my son and I knew—know—you better than that. I shouldn’t have believed Pamela’s lies.”
So he knew now they were lies? Had Pamela told him?
“But since I did,” Lyle continued, “once I realized just how wrong I was, I should have called you. I just...” Helplessly he shook his head. “I never knew the words.”
Denver’s heart began to thunder. He cleared his throat. “That’s understandable, Dad. I’m not great with words, either.”
“I was an ass. Stubborn and stupid and I don’t blame you if you’re still angry at me.”
“I’m not.” Denver wasn’t sure what he felt, but anger wasn’t in the mix—not toward his dad. He tipped his head. “Did Pamela finally own up to the truth?”
“She came to me,” Lyle said. “But I already knew. I think I’ve always known.”
And he’d still chosen Pamela.
“I didn’t want to believe it because I knew it’d crush me.” He gave a sad smile. “But she insisted on telling me. She said she still loves me. That it was an unforgivable mistake but she wants my forgiveness anyway.”