And just cause I know yall adore the color scheme, here's another fic snippet.
Once again Jacob let the silence stretch, maintaining the eye contact that Jack had so brashly made, and as much as Jack wanted to turn back to the flowers and away from that penetrating stare, he knew it was exactly the wrong thing to do. Like bees and rabid dogs, fathers of beautiful women could no doubt smell fear. If Jack turned away, the other man would sense weakness, sense untruth, and would be all over him in a second -- figuratively if not in actuality.
Water gurgled in the pipes and the clickity-clack of skateboard wheels over sidewalk seams echoed through the front of the house. Jack figured that if he listened hard enough he could hear his lunch digesting. If Carter was still awake in her bedroom she was no doubt straining to catch the hint of a sound, any sound that would reassure her that her father wasn't eviscerating her commanding officer with a grapefruit spoon.
"Alright," said Jacob, with such suddenness and such feeling that Jack started, his mind flying from deadly spoons to answering machines used as bludgeons and ballpoint pens as stabbing weapons. "I guess I just needed to hear it from you, Jack."