Page 95 of The Commander

“He is my fiancé, and you’ve spent my entire adult life telling me I shouldn’t be in the military. Now you’re worried what people will say about me?”

“I never stopped you.”

“You couldn’t. I was an adult,” I snap, then something occurs to me. “But that’s not what you’re worried about, is it? You’re concerned about the family reputation.”

When Dad’s eyes darken almost guiltily, Noah places a hand between my shoulder blades. “Am I missing something?”

I turn to him, hating that he has to listen to this. I’m ashamed of my father and all his biases, especially that he has opinions about Noah.

“Son, your playboy reputation was well-known on base. Now you want to marry my daughter. I won’t allow it.”

God, I want to die.

Noah takes a step forward while keeping a physical connection with me. “Did you just call me a playboy?”

Dad doesn’t respond, and I glance between them, not wanting this to get out of control.

“Sir, with all due respect, every soldier on that base dates women, and not just one. I was no saint, sure, but I certainly didn’t have a reputation in excess of any other GI.”

Dad’s cheeks deepen, his nostrils flare.

“Dad?” I press.

“Jenkins, you were caught with that woman.” Dad draws in a deep breath and looks at me almost with pity.

I look back at Noah. “What woman?”

His brow is lowered.

“The one at the club, son. You have to tell her. You can’t marry her without telling her. I won’t have it.”

The blood drains from my face.

What is going on?

“What are you talking about, Colonel? What club...ohhh.” Noah relaxes, and an odd smile hits his lips while I freak out.

What club?

What woman?

What do I need to know about the man I’m going to damn well marry?

“Noah!” I grab his arm.

He runs a hand over his face. “You thought that was me? All this time?”

I glance back at Dad, whom I’m pleased to see looks a little uncertain.

“Yes...?”

Noah reaches for me, brushing a hand over my hair. “In my late twenties, a few years before I met you, there was a guy in my platoon. David Jenkins. He was a playboy. He frequented a club in Austin...it was a whorehouse, so let’s call it what it was.”

“David...” Dad mumbles and lets out a curse. “You sure?”

“Think I’d remember if I roughed up a woman and was questioned by the police, sir. And for the record, I have never hurt a woman and never will.”

Holy shit.