"Yes," he lied.
Sophie then turned her attention to Grady, giving her father soft, sweet eyes. "I love him, dad. You know I do."
A muscle jumped in Grady's jaw, but he stiffly nodded.
Glancing back, Keefe found reassurance in both Sophie and Edaline's faces. Unfortunately, Grady's didn't match that of his family's. He showed no emotion whatsoever.
As they sat opposite each other, in overstuffed white armchairs, Grady said, "I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous."
"I'm not," Keefe argued, cursing his hands for shaking. He clasped them in his lap.
"Actually, I think you're scared."
Keefe's face underwent a change. Was Grady teasing him? Or was he just building him up for rejection? Both?
"I — I love your daughter," was all he could think to say.
Grady nodded, all sharp lines again. "I've noticed."
"And I'd like to spend a very long time with her . . .?"
A sudden laugh escaped Grady's lips. Keefe's lips pursed. He knew he looked ridiculous, but the least Grady could do was credit him for being polite. "You're skirting around the subject," Sophie's father said.
"You really want me to say it?"
"Yes."
Keefe reminded himself to breathe. "I want to marry your daughter."
Grady's face didn't change as he asked, "Why?"
A lump formed in Keefe's throat.
This was the question he had least anticipated. Obviously, Grady knew why he wanted to marry Sophie. But he was testing him for some reason, as if this made him more worthy of her love.
"Um." Keefe placed a hand on his knees, focusing on his breathing. "Foster is —"
"Sophie," Grady corrected.
"Sophie," Keefe continued, trying not to grit his teeth, "is amazing. She's smart and talented and —"
His mouth parched. Grady's stare could've dug daggers through his chest, and somehow, Keefe could feel them piercing him in the stark silence that followed.
He continued, wracking his mind for the perfect words to describe his future wife. "She's brilliant," he decided. "She's not conceited or snobby, even though she has every right to be . . ."
Keefe's heart went for a leap when Grady's lips twitched into an almost-smile.
"Sophie." Keefe said her name like an oath. "She's my favorite person. I could never get sick of her even though she probably gets sick of me —"
Grady paused him with a hand held up. "That's enough."
Keefe exhaled. He only kept his head upright for the sake of appearances. "How did I do?"
"You . . . never said anything about her beauty."
Keefe fought a cringe. How had he forgotten that?
"She's beautiful," he stammered.
Grady held up another hand to stop him. It glared at Keefe like a stop sign, and he wanted to shrivel up in a ball until this conversation had ended.
"No," Grady assured him. "I'm . . . actually happy you didn't mention that."
A smirk hinted on Keefe's lips. An idea formed; maybe he could use this to his advantage.
"Sophie is pretty," he told her father, "but that isn't why I love her."
Moments passed in silence.
Finally, Grady smiled.
"That," he said quietly, "is the best answer I've ever heard you give."
Relief wound around Keefe, yards of bliss encompassing him, lifting toward the sky. "Thank you."
"You have my permission."
"I do?" he breathed.
"Don't make me change my mind."
"I won't." Keefe stood before Grady could say anything else. But of course he did anyway.
"Keefe," Grady warned. He turned back to face Sophie's dad, dread billowing. "You know I don't approve of many of your decisions."
Keefe nodded.
"Which is why," Grady said, "I need you to promise me something."
Keefe waited anxiously.
"My daughter is yours," Grady said. "She's yours forever. You're not allowed to give her back." He took a deep breath. "Never break her heart."
Keefe nodded. "I won't."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Grady relaxed into his seat, and as Keefe sprung forward to shake his hand, he was greeted with a hug instead. His eyebrows flew towards the ceiling. Grady was clasping him in an embrace.
It wasn't loving, but at the least, it was sincere.
"I assume you'd like to see her," Grady said.
"Yes sir."
"Don't call me that," he sighed, releasing Keefe. "And she's upstairs."
Keefe left the room as fast as was polite. But once he was out of Grady's sight, he flew up the stairs, a bright smile filling his face. "Foster?"
She met him with a hug in her old bedroom, arms clinging to his shoulders. "He said yes?"
"Don't sound so surprised."
"Hey," Sophie said. "You were the one that was worried."
"I know. Such a bad look on me, right?"
As Keefe ran a hand through his blond hair, Sophie gave him a good shove. "Be careful," she teased. "I might not say yes."
"You love me. Just admit it."
Sophie handed him both of her hands — the easiest way to confess emotions with an empath. A surge of feeling rippled up his spine, causing goosebumps to prickle his skin.
"That's intense, Foster."
"I love you," she whispered.
Smiling, Keefe gave her a gentle tug into his arms. There, with her nestled against his chest, he could sense those emotions with even greater clarity. The only thing left to seal them with was a kiss. "I know, Foster," he said softly. "I know."
《 asking for permission 》
Start from the beginning
