Free ARROGANT BRIT (A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE) by Nikki Wild

Kind of come with the territory
of swapping countries, jumping into the military, and already having a
rebellious streak straight up my arse beforehand…”

 
    He cycled through some options, hovering over
a few documentaries and action series, before selecting a stand-up comedian I
hadn’t heard of.

 
    “Oh, this is one of my favorite guys,” he
chuckled. “Hope you enjoy it.”

 
    “I’m sure I’ll enjoy myself,” I grinned, and
we nestled up a little closer together. That’s how we spent the rest of the
evening – pressed against one another, his arm around my shoulder, and laughing
hysterically at a string of fantastic comedians… with some leftover takeout on
the coffee table.

 
    As far as home dates go, it was pretty great.

 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
    Chapter 7

 

 
 
 
 
 
    Clara and I were just falling into a routine
as a text out of the blue caught me by surprise. Even as I made eye contact
with my father, sitting halfway down the bar with a few empty stools
surrounding him, I couldn’t fathom why he’d contacted me.

 
    > Need to talk. Drinks
tonight?

 
    I brushed past a few bar patrons as I made my
way over. To my surprise, instead of being the life of the party, my father was
apparently deeply lost in thought. Taking my seat beside him, I reciprocated
his warmth as he firmly clasped his hand against my opposite shoulder blade.

 
    “Thanks for joining me on such short notice,
son,” my father greeted me happily. He seemed to be glad to be free from
whatever thoughts were in his head. “What can I get you to drink?”

 
    “Whiskey neat,” I answered.

 
    “Alrighty then.” He clicked his fingers a few
times for the bartender, ordering me the drink. We sat in silence for a moment,
watching the man quickly pour my refreshment before sliding it to my hands.

 
    “So, what’s gotten you rattled?” I asked
politely, preferring to get straight to the matter of things.

 
    “Little blunt there, aren’t you?” He chuckled
mirthlessly. “Don’t you want to catch up a few minutes, first?”

 
    “Dad, I just saw you maybe two weeks ago,” I
reasoned. “I figured that we were essentially past the small talk stage again…”

 
    “Hogwash,” he replied in a half-mutter. “We
were visiting together for the first time, all of us as a family. It was
different. This is more about you and
I.”

 
    “I was under the impression that you and I
were good,” I told him, sipping my drink. “Is there something new that I’m not
aware of?”

 
    “No, no, everything’s fine between us,” my
father deflected calmly. “It’s just that… I wanted to know where you’re going
in life, now that you’re out of the Marines and you’re in school.”

 
    “This is an odd time to ask that question.
I’ve been out for the entire summer, after all. Only been an hour’s drive
away.”

 
    “I know, son,” he groaned, ignoring his beer
for the moment. “I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit distant, it’s just that I
haven’t seen much of you since your days in high school, and I’ve… forgotten,
maybe, how to be a better father to you.”

 
    Oh, it’s this again.

 
    “You’ve been a great father,” I told him. “I
know we didn’t see eye-to-eye all the time, but you did the best you could with
raising me. I know that you’re busy with work, and with your girlfriend. I’ve
been tied up too. I could have picked up the phone myself, so it’s not just
your fault.”

 
    He looked like he wanted to say something,
but then didn’t. “I understand. I just… I still feel bad about things. I wish I
could have been better. That I could have given you more.”

 
    “It’s not your fault,” I retorted.

 
    “Yes, it is, son. I made a mistake. That
mistake cost me a great deal.”

 
    “You learned from your mistake. It’s not your fault that the Carlyle Fortune was ripped
from your hands. I have never held
you