Beneath This Ink (Beneath #2)

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. Eyes squeezed shut, I whispered, “You humble me. And that’s just one more reason I fucking love you.”


I pulled back, and we walked hand in hand up to the front of the elegant, antebellum mansion. Vanessa pulled her keys out of her purse and let us inside. Her father’s booming voice echoed in the house. “Vanessa, is that you? What did the board decide? That fucking Archer. If he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him myself.”

I couldn’t help but nod my head absently in approval. Maybe Vanessa’s father and I weren’t as different as I’d always thought. But as she led me deeper into the house and across the threshold into his study, that sliver of confidence was snuffed out.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Royce Frost was seated behind a desk as large as a ’57 Chevy. It probably cost more than one, if my limited knowledge of antiques was accurate.

“Dad, you remember Constantine Leahy.”

Frost’s gaze zeroed in on our clasped hands.

“And I repeat, what the hell is he doing here?”

I had to give Vanessa credit, she didn’t falter in the slightest.

“You wanted to know if I was ever going to settle on a man, and I wanted to introduce you to the one I’ve settled on.”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

I straightened, refusing to shrink under his stare. “No, sir. And there’s no joke about the fact that I’m in love with your daughter, and she’s in love with me. I know I don’t deserve her—”

“Damn right, you don’t.”

“Daddy, if I were you, I’d watch what you say right about now. I’ve made my choice, and if you can’t be happy about it, then I’d prefer you say nothing at all.” Vanessa’s words were quiet, but firm.

Frost eyed me with all of the ice his name implied. “You willing to cause a rift between a father and his only child just to get a piece of ass, boy?”

I dropped Vanessa’s hand and stalked forward, slapping both palms down on the surface of the desk. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that, old man. I don’t give a damn what you say about me, but you will fucking respect her. I don’t care how old you are, I’ll teach you some goddamn manners myself.”

I expected him to rise, which he did. He laid both hands on the desk and leaned forward, mirroring my posture.

“What did you say to me, boy?”

“You heard me, old man.”

His blue eyes were an aged and paler version of Vanessa’s, but they speared me all the same.

“You going to threaten to beat every man who disrespects her?”

“Without a fucking doubt,” I vowed.

I expected him to reach across the desk and plant a fist in my face, or maybe reach under the desk and pull out a shotgun, but this time my expectations were off. Instead, he nodded, straightened, and held out a hand.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Leahy.”

I stared down at his outstretched palm, shocked that he was offering it to me.

“Excuse me?”

“You may not have been my choice, but any man who’d threaten to kick my ass in my own house for disrespecting my daughter is a man I can respect, even if I don’t particularly like him.”

His words floored me. I was still processing them as we shook.

“Better treat her right, though. If I hear even a whisper otherwise, I’ll hunt you down like a dog.”

I wasn’t going to argue with that. “Fair enough, sir.”

“Then it really is good to see you again, Constantine.”

The handshake may have only spanned a few seconds, but its impact on me was monumental. It might have been grudgingly given, and provisional, but Royce Frost was showing me his respect. Like I was an equal. My shoulders straightened of their own accord, and I stood taller. The chip Vanessa had accused me of carrying seemed to shrink.

When I stepped away from the desk, Vanessa moved to my side and tucked her arm into mine.

“Con will be staying for dinner.”

“Damn right he will be,” Royce said, studying me. “Going to take me three courses of grilling him to make sure he really passes. Heard you were a military man.”

I nodded. “That’s right. Army. Special Forces.”

He lifted his chin. “Impressive.”

“And that’ll be the end of the grilling,” Vanessa interrupted. “You’ll make him feel welcome or we won’t be coming back for dinner any time soon.”

“You live here; I think not coming back for dinner would be difficult, Vanessa,” her father pointed out.

“Not for long. I’m moving in with Con.”

I jerked my head to the side to look down at her. “You are?”

Vanessa gave me a playful smile. “Yes. You were just getting around to asking me.”

“I was?” This was not something she should have dropped on me in front of her father. If he didn’t want to kill me before, now he’d want to for sure.

“Sounds like we’ve got more to talk about over dinner than I thought,” Royce drawled.