When we lived here, there was a favorite spot of ours in the cute little downtown area of our north-coast California town. We use to get breakfast there every Saturday morning, to the point where we knew all the waitstaff, and the kitchen knew I liked my bacon a little extra crispy and my omelet with an extra sprinkle of diced tomato.

…Brooks has decided that our first Saturday morning back, the tradition needs to continue.

Well, sort of. We’re not going out to eat—for one because I have zero clothes besides my city “going out” business dress, and for two because eating breakfast naked together in our bed sounds a lot more fun, not to mention legal, than doing it at the diner.

So Brooks, at his own insistence, is on his way there to get takeout. He’s taken the old Bronco from our garage—his old project car. I want to say I’m amazed it still runs, but, I’m not at all surprised. Not with how good Brooks is with his hands.

I blush at the thought as I hug the blankets around myself and just grin lazily at the ceiling.

Yeah, those hands—the same ones he used alongside his mouth to make me scream before he finally headed out to get those omelets and home fries.

I’m still dreaming about our morning, not to mention the mind-blowing night before, when I hear tires in the driveway. I frown. It’s way too soon for Brooks to be back. My brow furrows deeper as I slip out of bed, glancing out the side window before my whole body freezes with anger.

Motherfucker.

My father slides from the back seat of a silvered Maybach limousine, scowling at the small beachside house and making a face as he walks up the rock driveway towards the front porch. I swear to myself as I yank my dress over my head and hurry to zip it up. I have no idea what the hell my asshole of a father is doing here, but the timing is too perfect.

Brooks comes back into my life, and within twelve hours, the man who sent him away the first time who I barely speak to is knocking at my door?

Coincidences like that don’t even exist in movies.

I steel myself, fingers digging into my palms as I think about what I now know about the man I already had a rocky relationship with. It’s the knowledge that my father isn’t just a dick, he actively lied to me. To both of us. He sat there and watched my heart break into a million little pieces at his lies, and did nothing.

The anger flashes like wildfire inside of me. Part of me wants to rip the door open and scream at him, or shove and kick him off my porch. But instead, I take a deep breath, centering myself.

Forget him. Forget his lies and bullshit and horrible opinions. I know his lies now.

I swing the door open, and our eyes lock through the mesh of the screen door.

“Leanna—”

“If you’re here because of why I think you’re here, you have five seconds to turn around, get back in that car, and get the hell away from me.”

Anger flashes over my father’s face. He’s not a man who’s used to ever hearing anything even close to what I just said to him. But he steels himself, jaw clenching.

“I’m here, Leanna, because I won’t watch you make the same damn mistake all over again!”

I shake my head, tears brimming as I shove the screen-door open. My father jumps away, narrowly missing catching it in the face before he glares at me.

“The only mistake I ever made was listening to you,” I spit at him. “You and your bullshit!”

“Leanna, honey—”

“You lied to me!”

I know he did, but I want to see the truth on his face, even if he’s too much a coward to say it. But, his face says everything he won’t.

“So, you’re back with him, huh? Fallen for his smooth bullshit all over again?”

“You need to leave,” I hiss.

My father scowls, looking away.

“He’s wrong for you, Leanna! Always was and still is! Sending him away was the best thing I ever did for yo—”

“Fuck you.”

My voice is ice as I hug my arms around my torso, glaring at him.

“Leave, dad.”

“He left you, honey.”

I roll my eyes. “Your lies are pathetic, you know that? He didn’t leave me, dad. I know all about what you did.”

“He was unfaithful, Leanna.”

My teeth clench. “He was not.”

My dad smirks at me. “How blind are you, honey? You need proof right in front of you?”

“What I don’t need right in front of me is you, so leave.”

“Honey, believe him if you want, but I’m telling you there was another woman.”

“Dad!” I yell, my hands clenching to fists. “I said get the fuck—”

Suddenly, he’s turning, and reaching for the door to the limo. I almost think he’s just about leave, when instead he opens the door, reaches inside, and comes back holding someone’s hand as he helps them out.

A thin, dainty, red-finger-nailed hand.

The girl steps out of the limo fully, and when she fixes me with this sneering face through an inch of smokey eye makeup, I swallow thickly. She’s got dark black hair with pink streaks in it, with full, pouty lips and tits that defy gravity in a tiny little tank top.

“You want proof, Leanna?” My father mutters icily. “Well here she is. This is Lindsay, Brooks’ other woman.”

“It’s true,” the girl says flippantly, shrugging as she grins wickedly at me. “Brooky was all mine for a year. Every. Single. Night.” She blows me a kiss, really trying to twist that knife.

And oh, I’m angry alright. Furious. But I’m not mad at her, because I don’t believe her for a second. Brooky? Please. The day Brooks lets someone call him Brooky is the day the Earth stops turning. That and everything about Lindsay screams “overdoing it.” She’s trying too hard—trying to act too mean, too entitled about the whole thing. She’s over-acting it, and it’s failing.

So yeah, I’m mad alright. But not at her, and not at Brooks.

I’m mad at my dad, because here he is trying all sorts of underhanded shit just to tear me away from the man I love.

“You’re pathetic,” I spit out, wrinkling my nose in disgust as I shake my head at my dad. “Truly, truly pathetic.”

He stares at me, and even if he tries to hide, I can see the shock on his face that this hasn’t worked. And it hasn’t because as always—as he’s always done when it comes to us—he’s underestimated how deep Brooks and I are in each other. He doesn’t understand how strong our love is, because he’s never had something like that before. You almost want to feel sorry for him.

Almost.

“If you’re not gone in one minute, I’m calling the police. After that,” I reach down and heft up a rock from the edge of the driveway.

“After that, I’m throwing these at her until you do leave,” I mutter, glaring at Lindsey, who goes white as she whirls and dives back into the limo.

My dad holds my gaze, shaking his head. “Leanna—”

“Forty seconds. And don’t ever call me or write me or visit me again,” I spit, venom and ice in my words. “Not ever. We’re done, dad.”

He stares at me a minute more before he shakes his head. “You’ll come around—”

“No.” I smile thinly. “I won’t.”

We lock eyes for another moment before I clear my throat, unblinking.

“Ten seconds.”

“Goddamnit.”

My father whirls and folds himself into the limo, reaching out and slamming the door shut as the car rumbles to life and starts to back out of the driveway.

I’m not sad or broken up about. In fact, all I feel is free.

Back inside, I put on another pot of coffee, letting my mind wander to pretty much anywhere other than the toxicity of my dad. But all of that is behind us. It’s over with. Now, it’s just us, and the future Brooks and I want to create together.

It’s an hour later when the sound of Brooks’ truck rumbling back up the driveway from the main coastal road.

“You know what? Those guys fuckin’ remembered the extra tomatoes.”

I grin, turning and smiling at him as he steps into the house. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Didn’t even have to remind them. Regina says hi.”

I smile. Regina is the eighty-year-old cashier and owner of the diner—never to be seen without her big white fluffy cat Martin perched on her shoulder.

Brooks steps over and kisses me slowly, letting his lips melt to mine and taking my breath away before he turns and heads towards the kitchen table. He starts to pull out to-go boxes of our breakfast when I shake my head, thinking about what he missed.

“So, I met Lindsey.”

Brooks freezes, half turning to me. “You did?”

Part of me turns chilly at the way his body tenses. Or at the way he doesn’t say “who?” Me bringing it up was a joke. He’d say “who,” and I’d tell him all about the fake mistress my dad tried to trot out as proof of Brooks being no good for me.

…Except, Brooks doesn’t say “who,” and suddenly, red mist clouds over my eyes.

“Wait, you know her?” I mutter icily.

He turns, half frowning in confusion, half smirking. “Lindsey-Lindsey? With the pink hair?”

The red mist turns to fury, and I realize my teeth are clenched hard enough to hurt, my fingernails digging into my palms.

“Yeah, her,” I growl. “You’re saying you know her?”

He chuckles, and the rage roars through me.

“Shit, I was wondering when your dad might trot her out.”

I swallow, seeing red.

“Yeah, they call girls like her rig rats,” he chuckles, shrugging. “She hangs out in ports where rig works make supply runs, and—”

His grin suddenly fades as he sees the look on my face.

“Fuck, Leanna, you didn’t believe your father, did you? What’d he try and say, that Lindsey was my ‘other woman?’”

I’m too shaking mad to answer, and Brooks’ eyes burn fiercely as he moves towards me.

“I—I can’t—” I suck in a breath of air, trembling. “Goddamnit, Brooks,” I choke, fury and betrayal burning through me. “You know her?”

“Yes,” he says evenly, not even pausing. “But not like that, Leanna. She sold me a used pickup when I quit the rig, and—”

I turn away, shaking my head until I suddenly gasp as I feel his big hands on my shoulders.

“…And I never touched her, angel.”

“You expect me to believe—”

“Yes,” he hisses, making me gasp as he suddenly pulls me around and yanks me into him. I try and push away for a second, but the fight goes out of me as those eyes of his burn right into mine, and those hands hold me so tight.

“Look at me, angel. You know me, just like I know you better than I know myself. And I’m telling the truth when I tell you I never touched another woman. Fuck, I never looked at one.”

I bite my lip. Instantly, the anger is evaporating out of me, replaced instead by this cringing feeling of just how insane I just looked.

“I’m crazy, aren’t I,” I mumble.

He grins. “Maybe, but you’re crazy the way I’m crazy about you. And I like you crazy, sweetness.” He growls as he leans in, kissing me softly as I melt into him. “And I already told you, I knew I had the best, even if I thought she was gone. After you, angel, what would be the fucking point of any other woman?”

I moan as we crash together, and I’m kissing him with everything I have as he groans and pulls me tight to his hardened, chiseled body.

“There’s only ever been you, angel,” he purrs. “I was lost the second I saw you.”

“Well that’s good,” I whisper into his lips. “Because by the time you got around to spotting me, I’d already been falling head over heels for you for like a week.”

He chuckles, kissing me, but that laugh soon turns into a hungry groan as we pull tighter together.

Slowly, I pull back, my lips bruised and swollen from his as I frown slightly.

“Was the diner packed?”

He grins, arching a brow at me. “You’re wondering what took me so long.”

I roll my eyes. “No, because that’s right up there with believing my dad about non-existent mistresses on the crazy and possessive wife scale.”

Brooks chuckles deeply, his hands sliding over my body. “Yeah, well, I like you possessive. Cause I’m all yours, angel. Possess and covet away.”

I giggle, kissing him.

“If you’re dying to know why omelets took an hour though…” he trails off, his voice low and a spark in his blue eyes as they burn into mine.

“It’s because I had to get this.”

He reaches into his back pocket, and when he pulls out a little velvet black box, my heart jumps into my throat.

“Brooks…”

“Open it.”

I hesitate, my pulse racing. On the one side, I love that he got me a new ring. On the other side though, there’s the anger at the time we lost, and at my own self for tossing the one I had before away. My fingers slide over the velvet of the box, and slowly, I open it up.

…And my jaw drops.

I stare, blown away by the likeness as the light glitters off what looks like an exact replica of my old ring.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, staring at it. “Brooks, it’s just like my old one!”

I look up, and when I see his grin get even wider, suddenly, something clicks. I gasp, my hand flying to my lips as my eye drop back to the ring. And somehow, I know what he’s going to say even before he says it.

“Because it is your old ring,” he says quietly.

My heart jumps into my throat, my pulse racing as I just stare at the impossibility sitting in the little box.

“How?” is all I manage to croak out.

“I do run the world’s foremost geographic surveying company you know,” he grins. “I had divers search current patterns out there,” he nods his chin out our window towards the ocean. “Had another team scouring pawn shops and jewelry dealers up and down the whole coast of California.”

He shrugs, like everything he just said is something anyone would or could do for a missing ring.

“The tide seems to have brought it north, because we found it in a secondhand shop outside Point Reyes.”

I just stare at the ring, hardly believing it. I mean what are odds of this happening?

“You…” I stammer, words faltering as Brooks takes the ring from the box, and then takes my hand. He slips the ring on, his eyes fierce as he brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it.

“You found it again…” I finally breathe.

“Just like I found you, angel.”

His hands cup my jaw, and I’m flinging my arms around his neck as he leans in, melds his lips to mine and takes my breath away.

“I love you, angel,” he whispers.

“’Til death do us part?” I grin, pressing into him as the heat trembles through me.

“Nope.” Brooks shakes his head. “Not even death is going to drag me away from you this time.”

I barely have time to pant out “I love you too” before his lips crush to mine, and the whole world melts around us.