“Look at me, son, feel what you’re feelin’ right now and look at me, the man who’s makin’ you feel it,” Cob invited, leaning toward Brock. “I spent my whole life puttin’ off tomorrow what I shoulda done today and you”—he gestured with his bottle of beer—“felt the worst of it. Learn from me, do not make your sons feel what you’re feelin’ right now. I do not know what’s happening in that bitch’s house. What I do know is that seven years ago, I had two grandsons who felt just fine in their skin and now they look like they’re about ready any second to jump out of it. It’s either her or that man she married but it’s somethin’ and that somethin’ is not you. You’re done with that other job. You’re available. Your life is steady. Now you got no excuses.”

“I cannot believe you got the balls to sit on my couch and coach me on raisin’ my boys,” Brock ground out.

To that, Cob sucked back a huge swallow of beer as he stood. He bent and slammed his bottle on the table and looked down at his son.

“No, what I got is not enough time to hope you do not fuck up like your old man and instead do right by your family.”

The air turned harsh, scratching at my skin, and Cob’s eyes came to me.

“Nice dinner, Tess, beautiful cake. And honored you talked to me, sweetheart, swear that to my soul.” At these words Brock’s solid body grew rock hard and Cob looked to him. “I’m okay with you bein’ pissed at me because I deserve it. But, Slim, once you stop bein’ pissed you’ll see I’m not wrong. You don’t have to tell me. You just gotta get your shit sorted.” He jerked up his chin, started to the door, and mumbled, “I’ll see myself out.”

Then he saw himself out.

I sat immobile and silent, still curled around an infuriated Brock, and I stayed this way because I didn’t want to do anything to tip the edge on that fury.

I should have moved away.

“Honored you talked to him about what?”

I pulled away, removing my arm, tipped my head back, and looked at him. “Sorry?”

“Honored you talked to him about what?”

“We, uh…” I started cautiously, too cautiously.

“Spit it out, Tess. What did you and Father of the Year talk about?”

Oh man.

Seriously, the Lucas family needed to work through these issues and soon.

“He was worried that I was like Olivia and showing you what you wanted to see but was something else underneath,” I said softly and Brock fell back against the couch.

He lifted both hands and rubbed his face but under them he bit out, “Jesus Christ.”