The preacher didn’t like that answer. “And if I refuse, would you take her from me?”
“Do you want her to deny what’s in her heart so she doesn’t leave you?”
His face tightened. “Don’t manipulate me.”
One-Mile held up his hands. “I’m just being honest. The other way of looking at this is, I want to pay you my respects. You’ve raised a remarkable woman. I admire and love Brea with my whole heart. As the man who wants to share her life, it’s my responsibility to ensure she has whatever she needs or desires.” He withdrew his phone, opened to his photos, and set the device in her father’s hands. “I own my home in Lafayette outright. The next ten pictures encompass the exterior and interior. She can redecorate however she wants.”
The man flipped through the pictures with vague consideration but said nothing.
“The next two pictures are screenshots of my bank balance and investment portfolio.”
Reverend Bell kept flipping, his brows rising when he scanned the images that proved his seven-figure worth. “You’ve clearly saved.”
“Virtually everything. I inherited some, and I’ve invested well.”
“She doesn’t care about money.”
One-Mile knew that. “She’s never even asked how much money I have, and I’ve never mentioned it. But I’m offering you proof that I can take care of her for your peace of mind.”
“Materially, you can far better than I have.”
And that obviously didn’t hold much weight with the good preacher. “I also understand Brea well enough to grasp that she values harmony. Cutter and I will have to bury the hatchet. He’s pissed at me for breaking protocol on a mission because I sensed a trap and I was right. But I’ll apologize, swallow my pride, and be the bigger man because I know what he means to her.”
Brea’s father nodded, his expression slightly less guarded. “A great deal. He always has.”
“That brings me to you. If we can’t get along, she’ll never be happy. That’s not something I can live with. So what do you need from me to make sure there’s no wedge between us? Name it. If it’s within my power, it’s yours.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to walk away and let her find someone else?”
“Who does that benefit? Not me. Not Brea. Definitely not our son—”
“Son?” He pressed his lips together. “I didn’t even know she was having a boy.”
That tore Brea’s dad apart, and One-Mile softened. “She wanted to tell me first. We’re thrilled. I hope you can be, too.”
The man sighed. “My grandson will need a positive male role model growing up.”
“My son will need me.” Despite having no one to emulate, One-Mile would do his absolute fucking best to be a good dad. “If you think past your anger, my leaving wouldn’t benefit you in the long run, either. If you managed to guilt Brea into cutting me loose, she’d eventually resent you for it.”
Reverend Bell exhaled deeply and closed his eyes in defeat. “I know.”
At least he was man enough to admit it. “We’d like to start our lives together, sir.”
“Jasper.”
That was a good sign, right? “Jasper, the only thing keeping us apart now is you.”
The man said nothing, but his face told One-Mile he saw the ugly truth for himself. “I’ll bet you’re a real bastard at work.”
He smiled. “So I’m told.”
“If someone had lined up a thousand men and told me that my daughter’s chosen mate was among them, you’re the last one I would have picked.”
“If it’s any consolation, she took me completely by surprise, too.” Since he was finally getting somewhere, One-Mile inched forward on the sofa. “I know we’re not off to a good start. But you and I want the same thing: a happy Brea. Will you work with me?”
Before Jasper could answer, the door crashed open, and Brea ran in, her long brown waves tumbling around her. On autopilot, One-Mile stood. Like every other time he set eyes on her, his heart thumped. But today, emotion clogged his throat. She was almost his. And she looked so beautiful he couldn’t stop staring.
Vaguely, he was aware of Jasper watching him.
“Hi, pretty girl,” One-Mile managed to scratch out.
Her gaze fell on them and her eyes flared wide. “You’re here already?”
Her father got to his feet. Together, they approached her. One-Mile hung back.
“We’re just talking, sweetheart.” The preacher kissed her cheek and squeezed her as if he feared losing her. “Why don’t you join us?”
She looked nervous, her flustered gaze darting back and forth between them as if she’d half expected an argument or violence. “Sure.” She took in the empty table between them. “Before I sit down, coffee? Tea?” She sent him an apologetic glance. “We don’t have anything harder.”
He waved her off. “I’m fine.”
“Nothing for me,” her father said.
“O-okay.” She set her purse and keys down, then sank to the sofa beside her father. “What did I miss?”
“Pierce was apologizing that we hadn’t met previously.”
“And?” Brea glanced tensely between them, as if she was braced for conflict.
“Like your dad said, we’re talking.”
“He asked me for your hand.”
A smile crept across her face as she reached out, slipping her palm in his own. “And?”
“We’re talking about that, too. But before he answers, I need to say something.” One-Mile took a deep breath. “You need to know everything before you decide if you truly want to marry me.”
She stilled. “You’re going to tell me about your father?”
He nodded, his gut in knots. “I won’t lie. I’ve avoided this because I didn’t want you to look at me like a monster.”
“Pierce, I already know—”
“You don’t.” He turned to Jasper. “I want you to hear this, sir, because I fully admit I’m far from perfect. But if you give your consent, I want you to know exactly the son-in-law you’ll be getting. I want your blessing to be real.” He grimaced. “And I only want to say this once.”
The preacher nodded, his expression neutral, but
