Josie exhaled loudly. “Mom, no. Look at us.” She waved her hand between her and me. “I’m not the one who needs ice. Or a little human decency, for Christ’s sake.”

“Josie,” Mr. Gibson broke in, “you might be twenty-one and an adult now, but you are still under our roof and that is your mother you’re talking to.”

Josie’s hand grabbed hold of mine as she stared at her dad. I don’t know how he managed to keep his shoulders high, let alone keep looking her straight in the eye, with the way her eyes were leveling him. “And this is my boyfriend you’re talking to. I’d appreciate it if you’d show him the same amount of respect you show everyone else.”

I don’t know whose face looked more shocked: mine or Mrs. Gibson’s or Mr. Gibson’s. Wait, I take that back. Mrs. Gibson definitely won the most-shocked-face award. From the way she looked, Josie might as well have just told her she was going to jail for life.

Having me as a boyfriend . . . Going to jail for life. . . I supposed to Mrs. Gibson, they were one and the same. Mr. Gibson, though? He just stared at our entwined hands with a vacant expression, seeming at a loss. That made two of us.

“Yoo-hoo? Earth to Dad and Mom?” Josie snapped her fingers a few times. “There’s a man bruised and bloodied in your foyer. This isn’t really the time for open-mouth gawking. Since it looks like I won’t be receiving a lot of help, I’m going to get him fixed up.”

We didn’t make it two steps before Mr. Gibson stepped in front of us. “Josie, time to go to bed.”

Josie’s face went red in barely two seconds time. “I’m not going to bed when there’s a person under our roof who’s in need of serious medical attention.” I gave her hand a squeeze, trying to calm her, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“I need to have a talk with Garth. Man to man.”

“Then you can talk with him in the morning,” Josie argued.

“It can’t wait until the morning.” Mr. Gibson crossed his arms, looking as determined as I knew Josie was.

It might not have been the best time, but he was right. Mr. Gibson and I needed to talk. I’d imagine a father like him had plenty to discuss with me. Especially when I came through the front door hand in hand with his daughter after midnight looking like I was walking death. Turning to Josie, I tried to smile reassuringly at her, but my mouth wasn’t working quite right.

“It’s okay, Joze. Why don’t you get some ice on that cheek, head up to bed, and your dad and me will talk. I’ll see you in a little while. A little while as in the morning,” I added when Mr. Gibson’s eyebrows raised. “I’ll see you soon. In the morning.” As expected, Josie whipped her head from side to side. “Please?” I lifted my hand to her face. “You know how hard it is for me to say that. One please every decade ought to be worth something.”

She sighed, still shaking her head. “Fine. But not until you’re bandaged up and changed.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Garth’s a tough guy—he’s a bull rider after all. He’s used to a few bumps and bruises,” Mr. Gibson said. “I think he can wait fifteen minutes before having his boo-boos fixed up. Isn’t that right, Garth?”

If the tension in the air hadn’t been so thick, I might have chuckled when the word boo-boos came out of Mr. Gibson’s mouth. “This is nothing.” I gave a dismissive wave. “I’m fit for a full day of ranch work right now, so a little manly conversation will be a walk in the park.”

“I’ll wait for you on the porch.” Mr. Gibson stopped in front of Josie and studied her face. He stroked her cheek gently then kissed the top of her head. I didn’t miss the sideways look he shot me as he headed out the front door.

“I’m fine,” I said as Josie opened her mouth. “If I was in his shoes and my daughter came through the door with a bruise on her face, I sure wouldn’t be talking to the guy who was responsible for her.” I pressed closer to her and stroked her cheek with my thumb. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Her eyes met mine as a silent exchange passed between us. “Thanks for the date.”

I laughed a few notes. What a date it had been. It had to rank up there with the most extreme dates ever. “Thank you for letting me take you on a date.”

“I figured it was about time.” Her hands rested on my chest, and she let a smile come out.

“You figured right.” Leaning in, I pressed my lips into the corner of hers. Mrs. Gibson shifted and looked away. I inhaled, breathing Josie in, then let her go. I had a concerned father waiting for me—who hopefully wasn’t waiting for me with the barrel aimed and trigger cocked. When I turned to close the front door behind me, I found Josie in the same spot, watching me with sad eyes. It took everything in me not to rush back to her and fix whatever was troubling her.

Mr. Gibson was waiting for me just outside the door, leaning into the porch railing with his arms crossed. No shotguns in sight. “It’s obvious to me you want nothing but the best for my daughter,” he began as soon as I’d closed the door, “but you and me both know that you’re not capable of giving her that.”

Shit. And I thought I was done taking hard blows for the night. “So we’re just diving straight into this?”

“I took you for a man who doesn’t like to bullshit around the point, kind of like me. If I’ve got that wrong, then please correct me and we can do some ice-breaking by talking about the weather, or what the Farmer’s Almanac is predicting for rainfall this summer, or how the new cafe in town serves piss poor coffee.”

“You’re right. Let’s get straight to the point.” I moved beside the rocking chair across from him, but I didn’t sit in it the way my body was aching to. I would stand like a man in front of Mr. Gibson and whatever he was about to throw at me.

“I knew your daddy way back. Your mama, too.” Mr. Gibson wasn’t wasting time, and I couldn’t blame him for that. Sunrise was only a few hours away. “She was a good woman, and he was a well-intending man, but you of all people know how that worked out.” He paused, letting that sink in. Letting all of the memories and images I did a decent job of repressing flood back into the forefront of my mind. My pain shot up a few levels. “The only difference between your dad and mom’s situation and you and Josie’s is that Josie has a protective and concerned father. I like you, son—you’re a decent enough kid who I know cares for my daughter—but it wouldn’t matter if I loved you so much I’d profess you my new religion. I won’t let my daughter fall victim to what your daddy, and his daddy, did to the women they claim to love.”

I grabbed the back of the porch chair to steady myself. “I wouldn’t do that to her. I’d never hurt her. I care about Josie.”

His eyes ran down me, taking me in. A person who’d lived through cycling around in a tornado wouldn’t have come out as tore up as I looked. “You might not intend to hurt her, but there’s nothing about being with you—past, present, and future—that won’t hurt her.”

My hands gripped the rocking chair so hard my fingers shook. “Since you and I don’t know each other all that well and we’ve never exactly taken the time to get to know each other well, let me explain something to you. On my list of priorities, number one has to do with never hurting Josie. It always has been, and it always will be. Number two on that list is protecting her from whatever or whoever else might hurt her.”

Mr. Gibson’s eyebrows lifted. “Kind of like you protected her tonight?” That was the verbal hit equivalent of the baseball bat hits I’d taken. “I don’t doubt those are your priorities, but here’s the thing, son. How can those be realistic priorities? You and I both know you’ve hurt her plenty in the past, and if it isn’t you in the future, someone or something is going to wind up doing much worse than that grapefruit-sized bruise on her cheek tonight.”

I wanted to argue, to deny I’d ever done anything to hurt her, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’d ever tell. Mr. Gibson was right—I’d hurt Josie in ways I’d kill another person for doing to her. Even though I wanted to believe I’d learned my lesson, I wasn’t sure if that was reality. Mr. Gibson was right again—I might have known my priorities, but were the realistic ones?I didn’t have the answer to that question. I hung my head between my arms and focused on breathing. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know what to do next. Life was closing in on me, and I didn’t feel strong enough to hold the walls back from crushing me.