It's About Time (Blossom Peak #4)(37)

“If you would talk to her, you’d realize the truth about that entire situation.”

I can’t deny that his words pique my interest, but I’m also reluctant to hear any excuse that woman has—because no matter what her truth is, my truth is that I have no interest in welcoming her back into my life.

And Dilynne is right—having her as an excuse makes that fact much easier to stand on.

“Why does it matter? It’s not going to change anything.”

He hums. “Maybe not, but at least you can move on properly.”

“I already have. I was a shell of a person eleven months ago, and now I’m thriving again. Much of that is credited to Dilynne.” The funny thing is, that’s the truth.

He nods. “Ah, yes, the grease monkey.”

Fury rushes through my veins. “Don’t fucking call her that.”

“Well, she’s certainly not a traditional woman in any sense of the word.”

No, she’s not.

She’s infuriating, witty, and my body doesn’t seem to remember that she’s a pain in my ass, as evidenced by the reaction she got out of me when her hand slipped under my fucking shirt.

God, her touch was warm, smooth, and I wanted fucking more. I wanted to feel her nails all over my fucking chest and abs, all the way down to my...

“No, she’s definitely her own person,” I say, focusing on the conversation and not my fantasies. “But that doesn’t mean you have the right to demean her like that. You don’t even know her.” That’s when it really hits me too—because even though I’ve known Dilynne and Henley since I was fourteen, my parents have never really made an effort to know my friends.

My father arches a brow. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one who’s been keeping this relationship from me and your mother, apparently.”

“Well, if I realized you were so hell-bent on getting me and Tori back together, I would have told you a lot sooner. Then we could have avoided these arguments altogether.”

He folds his hands together in his lap. “Forgive me for wanting to see my son happily married then.”

“I don’t need to be married to be happy.”

“But it’s something that you obviously want, right?” He waves a hand out to me. “I mean, you’re engaged to someone new only a year after your last engagement ended.”

“I know, but it’s different with Dilynne.”

He nods. “As long as you’re happy.”

Those words coming from my father instantly make me confused. “I’m sorry, but…”

“I mean, you’re getting married, and that’s all I’ve wanted for you from the beginning.”

“Why does it matter so much?”

The fake smile on my father’s lips makes me pause again as I assess him. “You’re almost thirty-three, Elliot. It’s time for you to settle down, continue the family legacy…”

“Is that all you care about? The family legacy?”

“Your grandfather started this practice sixty years ago. He’d roll over in his grave if anything were to happen to it.”

“The practice is fine, Dad. Me getting married or not isn’t going to affect that. And there were many more aspects to his legacy than just his practice, like the community law council,” I say, making him grow more irritated. “But that doesn’t seem to be a priority for you anymore, does it?”

“Volunteering for free is a waste of time that could be spent making money,” he fires back.

“The whole point of volunteering wasn’t about money, but giving back. And you know it.”

My dad darts his gaze from mine and then moves to arrange some papers on his desk. But I don’t miss the way he’s avoiding my eyes now, or the change in topic. “So, when is Dilynne going to come over for dinner? You know your mother is going to want to talk to her about the wedding.”

My stomach twists. Shit. I knew he wasn’t going to just accept our engagement easily. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check with her. She has a huge car show coming up, so I know her time is precious right now.”

My father rolls his eyes. “Car shows? Really?”

Standing from the chair, I button my jacket and pull it down in place. “Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t make it wrong, Dad. Dilynne is talented and it wouldn’t hurt for you to get to know her.”

His eyes find mine. “Trust me. There’s a lot I don’t understand in this world, Elliot. This is small in comparison to other things.” Sighing, he says, “Let me know a date by the end of the week for dinner. Your mother will need time to prepare.”

“I can coordinate it with her.”

“No. I have a schedule to consider as well,” he commands. “You’ll arrange this with me.”

“Fine. Anything else you need from me?”

Without looking up from his desk, he says, “No, that’s it. Get back to work.”

“Gladly,” I mutter under my breath as I head back toward my office. When I get there, I slump down in my desk chair and stare off into the distance, wondering how I was stupid enough to put myself in this position again.

Another wedding? Another circus with my parents?