“Hi.” Hayden smiles as we walk into the kitchen.
“Hello.” Valerie smiles as she stirs something on the hot plate. “Dinner in ten.”
“Hmm, something smells delicious,” I say. I’m not even joking; it really does smell delicious in here.
“Only the best for my loves,” Valerie replies. “Your father is in the living room.”
Hayden disappears into the living room, and I hang back, and I watch Valerie for a moment. She’s the epitome of country loving. I know where Hayden gets her warm and happy disposition from.
Valerie has it in spades. It oozes out of her, and I felt it the moment we met, and I feel like I know her already.
The exact opposite of her prickly husband. I’m dreading that Harvey and I are not going to get along and it’s going to screw everything up.
Hayden worships the ground her parents walk on. If I fuck it with them, I fuck it with her.
I hang in the kitchen for a bit. “How was your day?” I ask Valerie.
“It was good, love.” She smiles warmly as her knowing eyes hold mine. “He’s not as scary as he looks, darling.”
“Good to know.”
I loiter a little longer. “Any advice?” I ask.
“To deal with Harvey?”
I nod.
“Be yourself.”
I frown.
“More than anything, Harvey respects honesty.”
“Me too.”
“You do.” She rubs my arm. “I know.”
“You know?”
“Darling, I speak to Hayden every day. I feel like you and I are already close friends.”
I smile, feeling a little better. “Well . . . your daughter is a credit to you, Mrs. Whitmore. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
Tears fill her eyes as she gets emotional. “I know.”
“What are you guys doing in here?” Hayden comes around the corner.
“Just talking.” Valerie smiles.
“This is the best night.” Hayden slides her arms around my waist to hug me. “My favorite people all in the one house.”
I kiss her temple.
“Come see Dad.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room to see Harvey sitting in his recliner chair in the corner of the living room.
“Hello, Mr. Whitmore.” I smile.
His eyes hold mine, and he gestures to the couch. “Take a seat.”
“Thanks.” I sit on the couch.
“You two chat between yourselves. I’m going to help Mom,” Hayden says.
Don’t leave me here with him.
“Okay,” I reply.
Harvey keeps watching television with the remote in his hand.
I twist my lips. I look between him and the television. I should make conversation or something.
“It’s good to be back on American soil,” I say.
He nods and keeps watching television as if uninterested. I wait for him to say something . . . he doesn’t.
Rude prick.
“A farm this big must be a lot of work,” I say.
“We have Hayden home to help us now,” he says as his eyes stay fixed on the television.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Walked straight into that one.
I stay silent, unsure what to say next. He’s going to hit the roof when he finds out she’s coming to London with me.
I roll my fingers on the armrest of the couch as I troll my brain for an attack plan.
“Dinner’s ready,” Hayden calls.
Harvey gets up and walks past me out of the room, and I glare after him.
Seriously?
Could he be any less hospitable?
Thank fuck Hayden takes after her mother and not this rude prick.
I walk in to find a spread on the dining table, plate after plate of delicious food.
Jeez . . . has she been cooking for a week? I don’t know if my mother has cooked this much food in my entire life.
“Are there others coming?” I ask.
“No.” Hayden smiles as she gestures to my chair. “Just us.”
“Wow.” I sit down. “Looks delicious.”
Hayden sits down beside me and takes my hand in hers and smiles over at me.
It’s fine. This is for her.
We dish out our plates in silence. “What do you do for a living, boy?” Harvey asks.
“Christopher,” I correct him. “Don’t call me boy.”
Hayden steps on my foot under the table.
Behave.
His eyes hold mine, and I take a mouthful of food off my fork.
Oh shit, I forgot to check . . . is this offal? I study my plate as I chew. I can’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“I asked you a question.”
“I’m in advertising,” I reply curtly.
Hayden reaches over and puts her hand on my thigh to remind me to shut up.
I need to change the subject. “Where’s that jaguar?” I ask.
“Oh, Bryan?” Valerie smiles. “He’ll be home for dinner soon.”
“Where does he go throughout the day?”
“Who knows,” Harvey replies. “Mousing, probably.”
Right, just keep the conversation off me. “How long have you owned the farm?” I ask.
“We’re third generation on this land,” Harvey says. “Soon to be fourth.” He winks at Hayden.
Hayden smiles over at her father, and my stomach twists.
Fuck.
It’s like a cult.
“Where do you live, Christopher?” Harvey asks.
He called me Christopher. I chalk up a small victory. “I live . . .” I pause. Oh shit, how do I answer this? “I live between New York and London.”
Harvey frowns. His eyes flick to meet Valerie’s.
“Christopher’s family is very successful,” Hayden says.
“Like how?” Harvey replies dryly.
“You know the big company Miles Media?” she replies.
“Nope.”
“The one that makes the newspapers?”
“What about it?” he replies.
“That’s Christopher’s family business.”
His eyes meet mine. “So . . . you’re a pen pusher?”
I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.
Don’t piss me off, old man.
“I work in advertising for a successful company, and I don’t appreciate your lack of respect, Mr. Whitmore.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face as his eyes hold mine.
“I use a computer, not a pen. Wrong decade,” I mutter as I take a bite of food off my fork.
Harvey chuckles, clearly amused with himself at my expense.
Fucker.
Hayden taps my thigh under the table in a subtle calm down signal.
“So . . . how do you think this”-he gestures to the air between us-“will last with you two living in different countries?”
I stay silent and glance over to Hayden. I raise my eyebrow.
Tell him. Tell him now.
“Well . . . I have some news.” Hayden pauses. “I’m moving to London to live with Christopher.”
The clang of knives and forks hitting the plates sounds through the room.
Valerie gasps.
I begin to perspire. Fuck me dead.
Harvey’s cold eyes hold mine, and he chews the food in his mouth as he processes the information.
“It will be a . . . new adventure,” Hayden says as she looks between them nervously.
“Where do you live in London?” Harvey directs the conversation at me.
“I have an apartment in the city.”
“An apartment?” He frowns. “You really expect Hayden to live in a box with no fresh air in the middle of the city?”
“Dad,” Hayden whispers.
He holds his hand up to her in a stop sign. “Now, baby girl, you need to think about this long and good. There are no cows in the middle of London, Hayden.”
Hayden stays silent.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit,” Harvey says.
“It’s a trial.”
“A trial?” Harvey explodes.
“For Hayden,” I correct myself. “If she doesn’t like city living . . . then . . .” I shrug.
“Then what?” he snaps.
“I don’t know, but please know, Mr. Whitmore, I love Hayden,” I announce. “I would never trade her happiness for mine.”
Hayden takes my hand as it sits on my lap.
“And I am going to marry her one day. With or without your permission.”
He narrows his eyes as he glares at me.
“If Hayden doesn’t like living in London, I would never keep her there against her will.”
“And if she wants to live here?”
“Then I will.” I shrug.