Right side was what his mother liked to call the formal living room. Chace wasn’t formal so the room had two comfortable burgundy couches facing each other with more hints of western, none at all of country which his mother referred to as “the formal part”.

Chace moved through a deep, wide archway as he led Silas into the vast space that made up a big kitchen and family room.

The kitchen had an island in the middle with a five burner stove and so much counter space it served as a kitchen table that could comfortably seat a family of eight. The island was a showstopper but so was the massive picture window over the sink at the back of the house.

The family room had an enormous sectional, three sides which were essentially three full couches. Big flat screen TV. Shelves filled with books, CDs, DVDs. And a stone hearth fireplace in the corner.

Off the kitchen leading toward the front of the house was the pantry, a hidden entry to the dining room and doors to a utility room and the garage.

Straight ahead from the wide hall that flowed from the front of the house to the back, there were doublewide French windows that led to the back deck.

Chace went directly to the coffeepot, asking, “How do you take it?”

“Seein’ as Sondra ain’t here, three sugars and a healthy dose of half and half.”

Chace put down his mug, opened the cupboard and reached for another one as Silas continued to speak to his back.

“On me all the time, Sondra is. Her Dad had a heart attack so she’s got it in her head I’ll have one. I run two miles a day. Do my sit ups, pull ups, pushups every day. Work outside most of the time. Got ten acres to take care of. And three kids that may be grown but that don’t mean I don’t lend a hand. I do all this so I can enjoy half and half and sweet in my coffee. She doesn’t see the balance.”

Chace poured coffee and gave him the bad news. “I don’t have half and half. Just milk.”

“You don’t have half and half?”

His tone was off in a way that Chace couldn’t read but it still set him on edge. Or more on edge.

He looked over his shoulder at the man even as he reached for the sugar.

“No.”

Silas Goodknight locked eyes with him and announced, “My Faye, she puts half and half in her coffee. Hazelnut flavored.”

There it was. A feeler.

Chace and Faye were not seeing each other on the sly. By now, the whole town knew they were dating. Regardless, Faye had told Chace that she’d told her folks they were seeing each other when she was at dinner at their place last weekend.

Now, Silas Goodknight knew that his daughter was not waking up and making her coffee at Chace’s house.

Chace mentally added hazelnut flavored half and half to his grocery list and replied to Silas, “Buy her coffees at La-La Land, Silas. Know she likes hazelnut. Haven’t had occasion to see her usin’ half and half.”

Silas held his eyes a moment before murmuring, “Right.”

Chace turned away, prepared Silas’s coffee and handed the mug to the man before returning the milk to the fridge, tagging his own mug, turning toward him and resting his h*ps against the counter. Silas had the side of his hip to the island.

Neither man spoke as they both sipped.

Finally, Chace cut to it, “What brings you out this way, Silas?”

Silas moved his gaze from contemplating the view out the picture window to Chace.

“Been meanin’ to do it for a while so decided to do it. Wanted to tell you I admire what you did. That kinda thing doesn’t take bravery, it takes balls. Big ones. Not a lotta men would make the decision you made and carry it through. The kinda thing that was happening beats a man down. Most men think they have two choices and all the others took one of those two choices. Either he joins in or he cuts his losses and moves on. You didn’t do either ‘a those. You saw wrong bein’ done, stomached it for as long as you could then set about rightin’ it. Took guts. Took balls. Not a lotta men have either. You do. I admire that.”

“Obliged but not sure I agree,” Chace muttered politely. Surprised this was his opener, not wanting to be on this subject, he braced because he had a strong feeling Silas didn’t seek him out to share gratitude a week after he found out Chace was dating his daughter.

Silas’s focus grew intense and his voice went quiet when he returned, “Then you’d be wrong, son. Arnie Fuller was a piss-ant as a kid. His Dad was an ass**le. His Granddaddy was an even bigger one. Then he got himself a uniform and he was no less a piss-ant. But a piss-ant with a badge is not a good thing. Grew from there ‘cause, see, that man had no way to go except bein’ an ass**le like his kin. Problem was, he was better at it than both of ‘em. You may not have been here then but you know it grew and how it grew. It wasn’t bad when you started but that kinda shit is always bad, just the level of shit you gotta negotiate rising. Got to the point we were all drownin’ in it. You and Dolinski cleared that away. Not one man before you, even Tate Jackson, took that on. Two decades of shit at a rising level. So, I disagree with you not agreein’. You did a thing no man before you would do and a lot of people are grateful.”

Not wanting to talk about this but definitely wanting to shut it down, Chace accepted the gratitude with a chin lift then he took another sip of coffee.

Silas took a sip of his and his gaze returned to the window.

Silas didn’t speak. Chace didn’t either. This stretched on awhile and Chace tired of it.

“Silas, there more you wanted to share?”

Silas’s eyes cut to him and he didn’t hesitate lowering the boom.

“I don’t want you datin’ my daughter.”

Chace felt his body go solid.

Fuck, shit, there it was.

Fuck.

Shit.

“Silas –” he started.

Silas lifted a hand. “Grateful, son, told you that. But I’m an honest man so I came here to share that gratitude and lay it out. I wish you happiness. You deserve it but not with my daughter.”

“That doesn’t sync, Silas,” Chace said quietly.

“I get that. But I’m guessin’ you also get me,” Silas returned quietly. “See, Chace, I pay attention. Knew the kind of man you are the minute I laid eyes on you. Don’t know the story. Know it’s not a good one. It’s none of my business and I don’t wanna know. So I’m not askin’. What I do know is my daughter’s a dreamer. She hides those stars in her eyes but you don’t gotta look deep to see ‘em. As her father, I want her to live out whatever dream she’s cookin’ in that pretty head ‘a hers. I also know that you married a woman under the eyes of God and even if you didn’t wanna have your ring on her finger, it was. Then you went about your business like you hadn’t made those vows under the eyes of God. I figure you had your reasons but whatever they were, I’m a man, a husband, a father and I want good for my daughter. I hope somewhere inside you that you get me when I say that no matter what the reason, breakin’ that vow to your wife, to God, don’t sit good with me when it comes to you spendin’ time with my girl.”