Conall was holding a knife.
Much as Beau liked to believe Eavan's father knew nothing of their antics, it was an unspoken truth that just about all of Irvingly knew. They were inseparable, what with (formerly) living and working together. Beau was infatuated, so blissfully and blindly happy to be near her that he didn't act as careful as he ought to have.
Which, clearly Conall knew, since he was holding a fucking butter knife in the most intimidating manner Beau had ever witnessed. Or, was it just his nerved amplifing everything?
His throat was suddenly as dry as the Arizona desert. Jesus. Beau cleared it once, then twice before finally meeting the gaze of his future wife's father. "I'd like to marry Eavan," he stated less like a question and more like a fact. "And I'd like your blessing to do so."
Much as Beau liked to believe Eavan's father knew nothing of their antics, it was an unspoken truth that just about all of Irvingly knew. They were inseparable, what with (formerly) living and working together. Beau was infatuated, so blissfully and blindly happy to be near her that he didn't act as careful as he ought to have.
Which, clearly Conall knew, since he was holding a fucking butter knife in the most intimidating manner Beau had ever witnessed. Or, was it just his nerved amplifing everything?
His throat was suddenly as dry as the Arizona desert. Jesus. Beau cleared it once, then twice before finally meeting the gaze of his future wife's father. "I'd like to marry Eavan," he stated less like a question and more like a fact. "And I'd like your blessing to do so."