The ball was in his court. I refused to look at anyone else or even think of the possible humiliation I’d just opened myself up to. The humiliation Cam would have served me had we still been in that summer before he left for basic. I kept my eyes locked on his and didn’t move my hand. Something told me the minute I lost eye contact, he’d blow.

“Willow,” Dad warned.

“Cam,” I whispered. Every second he waited, my hand felt heavier with potential devastation.

He looked back at my father, and my heart sank.

But his hand took mine and felt lighter than the emptiness I’d been holding, even with its weight.

“Judge Bradley,” Cam said quietly in farewell. He moved, putting himself between Dad and me as he started back toward the booth.

“Willow,” Dad called, and it wasn’t quiet. I paused, knowing the gloves were off.

I looked back anyway.

“What would Sullivan say?”

He hadn’t landed a punch—he’d shot directly to the heart, and mine shattered. My breath stuttered, and Cam’s hand tightened around mine.

“I don’t know, Dad. But I’ll be sure to ask him the next time I see him.” I faced the booth and put one foot in front of the other until I was seated against the wall with Cam blocking the rest of the diner.

He lifted his arm, then wrapped his hand around my shoulder and pulled me into his side. It wasn’t a romantic declaration, though that’s probably what everyone assumed. It was full-on structural support.

I concentrated on Cam’s scent, all mint and pine, and tried to shove everything else that had just happened in a box to be examined later. Tried but didn’t quite succeed. Dad had really just used Sullivan against me. Against Cam.

“What just happened?” Gideon asked.

“Willow excommunicated herself.” Charity’s eyes glossed over as she offered me a weak, trembling smile. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, the movement jerky.

“Smile,” she ordered as her own brightened. “Every tongue in here is going to wag, so don’t you dare let Dad win. Not in this. Smile. It’s the best armor you’ve got.”

I did, but if Gideon’s cringe was any indication, it wasn’t successful.

“How long you think your dad can stay pissed about something like that?” Gideon nodded back toward where Dad had declared open war on me, then stole another fry.

“How long will it take him to forgive one of his daughters going against his direct wishes as publicly as possible?” Charity asked.

“Yeah,” Gideon clarified.

“She’ll let you know when it finally happens.” I gave my sister a wry laugh.

“Amen,” she agreed, and our laughter turned real.

Cam’s arm tightened around me, and I leaned into him.

“It’s okay, sis. There’s room at the black-sheep table for you. Right, Cam?”