She rose from her chair and balanced on her crutches. “I don’t.”

“I think you need a shower,” I said, changing the subject. “Let me get a garbage bag.”

She looked at me confused. “Why?”

I motioned toward the cast with one hand and pulled a bag from the cabinet. “You can’t get that wet.”

Her lips formed a perfect O. “Fuck, I forgot.”

“Let me take care of you and stop bitching.”

Her body recoiled and her eyes narrowed. “Did you just call me a bitch?”

My eyes widened and I moved toward her. “I’d never utter those words,” I said, touching her cheek and dusting my lips against hers.

“You better not. I think this cast could do a number on your balls.”

I laughed into her mouth before kissing her. “Will it be that awful to shower with me for a few days?” I murmured against her lips.

“No,” she muttered and sighed. “Doesn’t sound so bad.” Her eyes roamed over my face before I felt her smile.

“We better hurry. Wouldn’t want to keep Dad waiting.”

It was my turn to sigh. “No, we wouldn’t want to do that.”

***

“Georgia, I’m going to steal Frisco away for a few minutes.” Mr. Phillips nudged my shoulder, almost knocking me off-kilter.

Her eyes darted to me. “I guess it’s okay.”

“Thanks, baby girl,” he said, leaning forward and kissing the top of her head before moving toward the living room.

“We’ll be quick.”

“What’s he want with you?” She studied my face.

“Just guy talk,” I lied.

“Let them go,” her mother said, putting her hand on top of Georgia’s before she glanced at me. “We can girl talk.”

Georgia nodded, and I took it as my cue to join her father in the living room.

“Sit,” he commanded and motioned toward the couch across from his chair. Coming face-to-face with a man, the father of the woman you’re currently trying to bed, who you can’t punch if they speak out of turn, is all kinds of scary. It’s the one person in the world who can hate your fucking guts and you’re helpless to defend yourself with your hands.

“Let’s get a few things straight,” he started as I sat down. “We didn’t get to talk privately much at the hospital yesterday, and I have a few things to say.”

I nodded and knew where this conversation was headed.

“I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of you dating my daughter when she told us about you. For one, you’re kind of old for her.”

Smiling didn’t feel appropriate, but I couldn’t help but feel my lips twitch. “I understand. I had the same worry.”

“But Georgia speaks highly of you, and she doesn’t upsell anyone. Then she tells me you’re a PI. I’m not knocking the profession.” He held up his hands and made a look of disgust. “But it’s not a solid job.”

“It is,” I argued and leaned back in the chair, pretending to be relaxed.

“What’s your background? I checked your criminal record, but you don’t have one. I figured since you’re on the fringe of law enforcement that you possibly had a criminal background.”

“I attended college and served in the military.”

“What branch?” He stroked his chin, waiting for my response.

“I was a SEAL, sir.”

He whistled, and his hand stilled on his chin. “Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“College?”

“I studied pre-law.”

“Why didn’t you do anything with your degree?”

“Much to the dismay of my parents, I found it too boring. Private investigation fits me better. It’s a solid company run by two guys who used to work for the DEA.”

“Dirty law enforcement?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head and grimaced. “No, sir. They were sick of working undercover and wanted to put their skills to use. They felt they could be more helpful with their own firm.”

“Burned out,” he said quietly and turned to stare out of the window. “It happens sometimes.” He sighed before he looked back at me. “Why Frisco? It’s an odd first name.” He scrunched up his face.

“You’d have to ask my mother, sir.” I gripped the arm of the couch tightly. I couldn’t lose my cool or seem snippy. Georgia’s father held a lot of clout with her, and I wasn’t about to let him come between us.

“Enough of the bullshit. Let’s talk about last night.”

“Hit me,” I muttered, grimacing and regretting the term.

“Was a man driving?” He coughed, covering his mouth with his hand. “I can’t go after a woman.”

“From what I could see. It all happened so quickly but, yes, it was a man.”

“Good.” He nodded and pushed himself up from the chair. “I want you to write down everything you remember. Get your people on it, and I’ll do some digging down at the station. I want to find this person.” He leaned against the wall and looked out the window.

“But shouldn’t we let the cops handle it?”

“Are you a pussy, son?” He turned to face me.

“No.” I shook my head. “But—”

“No buts. We find them first. Were you scared last night?”

I nodded, remembering the feeling of fear and helplessness I’d experienced watching the accident play out in front of my eyes. “Very.” My body began to shake with the amount of anger starting to boil inside me, slowly building every time I replayed the asshole driving off.

“They drove away,” he said, turning back to look outside. “They didn’t care about my Georgia. They’re going to pay for that.”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes, ignoring the gnawing ache in my gut.

I didn’t get where I’d turned into a one-word wonder around this man. No man had ever intimidated me. Not even the officers who outranked me in the military. But there was something about Mr. Phillips that made me second-guess everything.

He handed me a pad of paper he’d retrieved from a cabinet near the window. “Write everything down. Don’t leave one thing out.”

“Okay. Can I call you George?” I remembered his wife calling him that last night at the hospital. It was all a fucking blur, but I did remember that.

“You can call me Mr. Phillips.” He glared and hovered above me.

“Mr. Phillips.” The prick needed to chill the fuck out. I got that he was wound up about his daughter, but at some point, especially if we were a team, he needed to not view me as an inferior person.

“Write,” he growled, pointing at the paper before stalking off to the same cabinet he’d retrieved the paper from. “Drink?” he asked and removed a carafe of amber liquid.

“I don’t drink this early in the morning.”

“I’m too nervous not to have something to calm my nerves. If you’re lucky enough to have children,” he said as he glanced at me over his shoulder, “you’ll understand how I feel.”

I nodded, even though I already knew how he felt. Georgia wasn’t my kid, but she was still mine. I’d protect her with my life if I had to. Seeing her in pain and watching her almost die before my eyes in a way that made me feel helpless would never happen again. I’d make fucking sure of it.

I started to write down the details, pausing and looking up when I heard the clink of the carafe against the glass. His hand shook as he tried to pour the liquid into the crystal tumbler. From the outside, he seemed cool as a cucumber, but inside, he was a ball of nerves, much like me.

Every man dealt with stress differently. I didn’t drown it in the bottom of a bottle; I used it to drive me forward. No matter what happened, the person would pay for what they did to Georgia.

When I finished jotting down everything I remembered, I tossed the pad on the coffee table and looked at him. He stared out the window, deep in thought, and sipped his drink. “I wrote down everything I could remember.”

“Good,” he said without looking. “I’m sure your company can help in the search, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I replied and stood from the couch, cracking my neck to relieve the tension.

“I’ll head to the station and do some digging. I can’t do too much without drawing red flags. You head to the office and see what you can find. Got me?”