But that was never going to happen.
When I got home, I had shaken off the sadness and was feeling a little more independent. Of course, I had always been independent, but I felt empowered. I had finally stood up to my father. It had been a long time coming. It felt good. It felt right, but part of me felt a little guilty for doing it.
I needed a drink. I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch to mull it all over. I had told my dad I would date whomever I wanted. I might have jumped the gun a little bit. I wasn’t even sure Xander and I were dating. I wasn’t sure he wanted to date me.
That didn’t matter. It wasn’t about Xander. It was about me and my dad and our relationship. For too long, I had been living the life of the good little girl. I had always been obedient. I had always done what he asked me to do and rarely put up an argument. I should have stood up to him much sooner.
I hoped we could move forward now that I had set some ground rules. I wasn’t all that hopeful. My father would wait for me to come crawling back. He would starve me of his attention until I couldn’t take it anymore. Then, and only then would I cave in and step back in line.
“No,” I said aloud. “I am not going to cave. I will stand strong.”
Chapter 31
Xander
I stood in the living room, looking around to make sure there wasn’t any dirty socks, trash, or anything else. I was probably being ridiculous, acting like a little old lady expecting company, but I wasn’t used to visitors.
I rarely got visitors. If I was being honest with myself, I got zero visitors. Charlie didn’t count. I supposed I could count Evie. Two. Exactly two visitors.
After assuring myself the room was ready for company, I checked the kitchen. I was just moving the bowl of fresh fruit to a new spot on the counter when I heard the doorbell. I quickly made my way to the front door.
“Hi,” I greeted.
Kade grinned and launched himself at me. He wrapped me in his arms, giving me a bro hug. I patted his back before he released me.
“Damn, did you get taller?” he teased.
I laughed. “I think you got shorter. All those years packing around a heavy ruck will do that to you.”
I opened the door and gestured for him to come inside. He picked up the small duffel sitting next to his feet and followed me in. “This is a nice place,” he said with genuine appreciation. “Are you right on the beach?”
“I am. Well, above the beach. Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour. Do you want a beer?”
“Hell yeah, I do. I’m on leave.”
“How could I forget the rules? Alcohol, alcohol, women, and then more alcohol.”
“And sleep. Don’t forget sleep. In a bed with a pillow and a warm fuzzy blanket.”
I closed the door and led him into the wide-open living space.
He walked to the bank of windows and looked out at the ocean. “This is a hell of a view.”
“It sure is,” I agreed. “It’s really what sold me on the place. One look out those windows and I knew I had to have the place.”
He turned and slowly took in the rest of the house before I led him upstairs and then finally out to the patio area. There was an expanse of green lawn with plenty of shade trees to the left. The patio led to a deck that was multi-level with stairs off the side that led down to the beach. The outdoor living space was as big as the indoor living space, which was exactly what I wanted in a home.
“I’ll grab us a couple beers,” I said.
“Can we get down to the beach from here?”
“We can. I’m sure you are used to a little physical activity.”
I walked into the house and grabbed a couple of beers before rejoining him on the patio. He was spacing out, staring at the ocean. I stood back and let him be. It was something else I learned from my father. Whenever he came back, he tended to do that. He would space out, lost in thought. We learned not to startle him. I waited a few more minutes and then cleared my throat.
He turned to look at me with the usual smile on his face. I handed him the beer. “Thanks.”
“Ready to go down?”
He shrugged. “Maybe we can just chill here for a few.”
“Works for me. I’m not sure I can keep up with you on those stairs.”
We sat down at the patio table, both of us leaning back and hiding under the shade of the umbrella overhead.
“This is a really nice place,” he commented.
“Thanks,” I answered.
“No, really. This is prime real estate. The house is great but the view? The land? You have really, really done well for yourself.”
His words were exactly what I had been craving to hear. I just wished it was my father saying them. He never would. He refused to acknowledge I had done anything with my life. He refused to accept the fact I had made the right choice by following my dreams instead of his.
“Thanks. Really, I appreciate it.”
“You didn’t say you lived in a house like this,” he said. “Are you embarrassed?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then why didn’t you ever send me pictures?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to be a douchebag.”
He laughed. “You are a douchebag. Sending me a few pictures isn’t going to make it any worse.”
“Good to know.”
“Didn’t you tell me you had a boat?”
“I do.”
“Then why in the hell are we sitting here?”
I smiled and got to my feet. “All you had to do was say so. We’ll swing by the store and get some food.”
“And beer.”
“And beer,” I assured him.
Just over an hour later, we were heading out for open water. He sat on one of the couches, a beer in one hand and his other arm across the back. “This is good,” he said with a huge smile.
“When you get out, you have to get a boat.”
“I will. I’m going to.”
“Have you thought about where you will land once you’re out?”
He shrugged. “No, not really.”
“Are you re-upping?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. When I’m in the shit, all I can think about is getting back home and living a normal life. Then I get home and I miss being over there. Isn’t that fucked up?”
“Not at all. You crave the action. You’ve made a life in the Marines. You have friends, or brothers rather. I think you need to do what is right for you.”
“I have another year before I need to decide. I was thinking about going to officer school.”
“Then you are considering making it a career?”
“I guess I am.”
I drove the boat out a little farther before setting the anchor and moving to sit down on the other couch. “How is Dad?” I asked him.
“Good. All he does is fish, from the sounds of it.”
I had to smile. “It’s what he always wanted to do.”
“He asks me about you a lot.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that. “Bullshit.”
“No, really. When I call home, he asks if I’ve heard from you.”