Page 86 of The Commander

“Damn, you play dirty,” I mutter.

“My father.”

“Ah...” My dick turns flaccid as quick as lightning. “He hates me.”

I always suspected he didn’t like me after I helped her with her car. I was her CO and older, so I took the hint, waiting for Quinn to admit her feelings and for me to discharge. It wasn’t worth causing any problems back then.

Plus, he was the colonel, and I heard what he said to me that day loud and clear.

From this point on, I expect you to keep a distance from my daughter to ensure there is no talk about a relationship with her.

Yes, sir.

“He,” Quinn glances away, and immediately I’m on high alert. Her eyes have clouded over, so I climb off and she sits, pulling the covers over her breasts.

I lean against the headboard and reach for her hand, tangling our fingers together. “It’s okay if he’s not a fan. I know you probably would prefer he loves the man you’re with, but I can handle it.”

Her eyes flick up to mine. “You don’t know.”

I frown.

She shakes her head and wipes away a tear that slips out.

“Quinn, what the fuck? What don’t I know?”

“It’s stupid. Well, it’s not stupid, but it's important to me.”

I’m dumbfounded, staring at her, waiting for her to explain.

“He never wanted me to enlist,” Quinn says, wiping her arm against her eyes. “Vehemently. From day one he told me I’d fail, that I should do something else. Be a wife and mother.”

Jesus.

Now I’m starting to understand. Our entire history replays with that perspective in mind, and I think about Quinn’s comments. His queries on her performance and second-guessing some of my recommendations.

“So, that day in the parking lot?”

“He accused me of sleeping with you. Of using my body to prove I was capable of succeeding in the military.”

“Fucking hell.” I run a hand through my hair and grip it. “That son of a—”

He might be my father-in-law one day, so I zip my lips. But the likelihood of that happening if he’s got a manipulative hold on her is low.

So how the hell do I get around this?

I twist, taking her into my arms. “Quinn, sweetheart, he is your father. It’s natural for him to want to protect you. What we do is dangerous.”

“Ugh.” She shakes me off and clambers off the bed. “See. You’re all sexist.”

I follow, getting to my feet, my dick hanging between my legs. “How am I sexist? I trained you.”

“But you think I should be home barefoot and pregnant with your baby.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I won’t.”

“You might.”