I fucking hated Jake Black.

Technically, I hated the idea of him - someone who could potentially be more important or more influential to my daughter than I was. I'm man enough to admit Jake intimidated me, and not only by his good looks and toned physique. He made my daughter happy and that's what scared me. For a long time I was the only one who could elicit a smile from Isabella, and then this...this guy...walked in and bumped me out of contention.

Those first few weeks they were inseparable. To the point where she didn't seem to need me except for food and shelter. As difficult as it was to have an infant/toddler dependent on me 24/7, it was even harder to have her not need me. It left me feeling conflicted. True, I wanted to raise Isabella into an independent young woman but I wasn't quite ready for that reality to set in yet.

I also wasn't ready to be a grandfather. Even though they'd just started seeing each other, I set up an appointment for Isabella with Rosalie's gynecologist to put on birth control. Kids experiment and fool around; they have unprotected sex. If it wasn't with Jake, it'd be with some other jerk. I didn't want my daughter to think I was encouraging her to have sex, and I would've preferred if she waited until she was 30 before that happened (better yet, just become a nun) but I'm not that naive. So on the pill she went.

On a positive note, for a new couple, Jake and Isabella were generally decent. They didn't kiss, grope, or make goo-goo eyes at each other in front of me. No disgusting PDA or 'we' talk. You know 'we' talk - where a single person loses their identity and becomes a couple, only referring to themselves in the plural. Emmett and Rosalie fell into this category. Annoying as fuck.

Jake was ultra respectful. He all but wrote their date itinerary out for me and would ask what time Isabella should be home. If curfew was 10:30, he'd pull his mom's car out front of our building with fifteen minutes to spare. From my vantage point behind the living room curtains, I could see that there were no steamed windows and Jake always walked Isabella up to the door. I kept a watchful eye but they rarely showed much affection. Even the security cameras at work didn't catch them in a kiss when Emmett and I were out of the room. Yes, we stalked them that way. Sue me.

I wasn't stupid and didn't trust Jake one little bit. He was kissing my ass, big time, but I let him; enjoyed it even. I certainly didn't want him to get too comfortable.

Two and a half months into their relationship Isabella reassured me they were still on second base. Though skeptical, I was happy, and relieved that my daughter was taking it slow, heeding my advice. I did sometimes wonder if Jake was maybe playing for the same team. Whatever. I was okay with either, actually.

By month five Jake loosened up a bit. He didn't give me the play-by-play of where they were going for their dates and, unfortunately, they steamed up the windows of the car before coming inside. Once again, Isabella told me they were still on base, though she neglected to tell me which one. Several times I reminded her if there was anything she wanted to talk to me about, my door was always open or if she felt more comfortable talking to Rosalie, that was fine as well. She'd mumble 'thanks but no thanks' and scurry off to her room before I could pry further.

I realized things were serious when I found out they were applying to the same colleges, both in and out of state. On the advice of my mom, I said nothing to Isabella about my disapproval of this. (And my reasoning behind this was that they were too young to be tied down to each other - her first real relationship.) The last thing I wanted to do was give my daughter a reason to be mad at me so she'd go running to him.

Turns out she didn't need a reason.

One Sunday afternoon, I came home from a food and drink conference in Seattle. Emmett and I stayed over night so we could catch a Mariners game the next day. And, yes, in hindsight leaving my almost 17 year old daughter home alone for the weekend was a terrible idea but I'd had a very serious talk with her before I left.

"Under no circumstances is Jake to come over. Do you understand?" I narrowed my eyes and made myself look as intimidating and bad-ass as possible. Isabella blushed, knowing exactly what I was alluding to.

"Dad!"

"Don't 'Dad!' me. He's not to come over. Not to do homework or to watch a movie. If I'm not here, he's not here. No way. No how. Period. End of discussion. Capisce?"

"Capisce."

Anyway, I got home from Seattle and gave Isabella a hug before I went to take a leak. And there it was….Capisce my ass!

"Isabella! Is-A-Bella! Come here!"

At the sound of me screeching like a tween at a Taylor Swift concert, she came running.

"Dad! Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. Do I look okay? Do I sound okay?" Because I was pretty sure I wasn't fucking okay!

"You look a little pale."

No shit I was pale. The blood had drained from my entire body.

"Can you tell me what's wrong here?"

Isabella looked around the bathroom. "The towel's crooked?"

"Try again."

"Uh," she looked around taking note of anything that may be out of place. "I have no idea."

"The toilet seat." I pointed. "It's up."

My daughter knitted her brows together in confusion. I repeated myself because wasn't it obvious what the freaking issue was?

"The. Toilet. Seat. Is. Up. UP!"

"And this is a problem because…?"

"Because?" My voice was five octaves too high. I cleared my throat and attempted to calm myself down. "Because, honey, I've been away and you were home, alone. I THOUGHT! And if I'm assuming correctly you no longer stand up to pee so this means you, young lady, had a BOY over."

The worst part of my revelation was the fact Isabella didn't deny it. She didn't even try. Fuck!

"Dad, we should talk."

What? Nooooooooooo!

I was okay with me initiating the talk, but Isabella starting it? Fuck. This wasn't good. At all. And even though I knew this day would come, my legs felt like pipe cleaners - all bendy and weak as I followed her to the living room. I sank in the recliner, needing the support of my faithful friend. Isabella sat on the couch, back straight, hands in her lap. She looked different. Why hadn't I noticed before now? My baby had turned into a woman overnight. Like, literally overnight. Fuck.

"So, um, yeah. Jake... stayed over and I… we…we..." She stalled as her face took on a bright pink hue.

"Here?" I croaked. "You...he...here? In my house?"

I was going to kill him.

"Ahem, our house."

I levelled her a look as if to say 'really?' I mean, fucking really? Isabella countered my look and I shot her down.

"I distinctly remember saying he was not allowed over. At all. I'm pretty fucking sure I said that."

"Would you rather we did it in the back of his mom's car in a dark alley?"

Damn it. I didn't know how to answer her. A part of me wanted to yell 'hell yes!' That's where kids her age were supposed to have sex. Maneuvering yourself like Gumby around a stick shift is a right of passage.

And the other part of me was glad it was probably a less embarrassing and awkward first time than mine had been. But in my house? Fuck. I wasn't sure if I needed bleach more for my house or my brain. Probably both.

I took a deep breath.

"Were you, I mean did you use...?"

God, I still wasn't mature enough to come right out and ask if they used a condom (or worse, plural) because then it was a sure thing. Like my daughter was. Shit.

Isabella nodded.

"Good." I paused. As big a deal with was for me, this was an even bigger deal for her. I switched off over-protective dad, for a moment. "Are you okay? Not just physically, but emotionally, you're alright?"

"I'm fine." Her lips curved into her happy smile - the one which made her eyes crinkle at the corners. Damn it, how could I be mad at that? Except I was, and she was going to be pissed about the punishment I was dreaming up.

"Okay."

"Okay."

We sat there in silence. Was there something else I was supposed to say or do?

Congratulations.

Please, wash your own sheets.

Great, now you can use up the box of condoms in my room before they expire.

Thankfully Isabella spoke releasing me of the ridiculous internal dialogue.

"Jake doesn't think you like him very much."

I snorted. "I like him a lot less now."

"Dad. You told me yourself Jake reminded you of yourself when you were young."

"I meant in regards to the handsome, popular, captain of the football team sort of way. Besides, younger me was an idiot. Hello? I knocked up your mother when I was his age. And so help me if he does that with you…" My fist punched into the palm of my hand as Isabella rolled her eyes.

"Jake's smart, hard-working, and driven. He got me an A in biology, remember?"

"I don't even want to know about the tutoring you needed to get that." She glared at me when I used air quotes for 'tutoring'.

"He's a good guy and you know it. You just won't admit it."

I grumbled, unwilling to concede.

"So, how was Seattle?"

I shook my head at her attempt to change the subject. "Nice try, young lady. You're not to see Jake outside of school for the next two weeks. You'll come right home after school, or to the cafe on the afternoons I'm there late."

My daughter was wise enough not to roll her eyes but she did protest. "You're grounding me for having—"

I stopped her before she could say that word. "No, I'm grounding you for disobeying me. There are consequences for that."

"Fine." Which meant it really wasn't but I didn't care. "He's supposed to come by later, though. He has to pick up his biology notes. Can I tell him then?"

"As long as it's brief."

She excused herself then and I grabbed myself a beer. I fucking needed one.

I was glad Isabella felt comfortable enough to talk to me about her relationship with Jake although I didn't like knowing the deed was done under my roof. Couldn't she have left that small detail out? Every time I walked past her room I had this visual...yuck.

Anyway, though I was pissed about her disobeying me, I wasn't mad at her for having sex. If my daughter wanted to have sex, there was little I could do to stop her. I could put up as many barriers as I liked - and trust me, I would've put up barbed wire if I could - but she would've found a way around it.

I did, however, have an ever-growing hatred for Jake. To know he had the same lascivious thoughts about my daughter that I once had about girls at their age? Jesus, I wanted to kill him.

Rationally, I knew sex was the next step in their relationship but the knowledge that he did that with my baby girl triggered something so primal and visceral within me. The need to protect my daughter is greater than anything I've felt in my life. It isn't a force that has to be ignited; it's always there, like cement, daring anyone to move it.

And knowing Isabella cared enough about Jake to want to be intimate with him scared the shit out of me. Opening her heart to him left her vulnerable and susceptible to heartache. Though I'd never been in love with Ally, the pain I'd felt when she left us was so great, almost insurmountable. I couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been if my heart were tangled up in the emotions as well.

For that reason, I needed to have a little chat with my friend Jake. But I wasn't going to be an asshole about it like Ally's father had been to me. I was better than that; better than him. I would simply explain in a calm, rational way that the girl's heart he held in his hands was fragile and to take special care of it.

Later that afternoon when the opportunity came for me to have a word with him, Papa Bear came out to play. Face to face with the boy who filched my daughter's virginity, I fully understood Mr. Brandon's animosity toward me, the punk ass kid who fucked his precious baby girl.

"Hey, Jake, come in." I greeted him politely with my big, fat, I-might-seriously-hurt-you smile.

Jake hesitated in the doorway, poking his (fat) head nervously around me.

"Uh, is Isabella here? I have to pick up some notes." His voice quivered and I all but chuckled.

"She's in the shower but come in, have a seat." Jake frantically shook his head.

"It's okay. I'm sure you're busy and I don't mind waiting in the car for her."

"Don't be ridiculous. It'll give us a chance to talk. Man to..." I gave him the once over. "You." I clasped his shoulder with an inescapable vice grip and steered him in.

We sat at the kitchen table, Jake opposite me, squirming in his seat. He alternated between wiping his hands on his jeans and dragging them through his hair.

I channelled Ally's dad - squared my shoulders, puffed out my chest, and folded my arms in front of me. I was in daddy beast mode.

And then I did nothing but glare at Jacob Fucking Black.

For two full minutes.

When I thought he might piss himself, I spoke. Only because I wasn't in the mood to clean up human waste, not because I was tired of seeing him squirm.

"I know what you did with my daughter." It wasn't the speech I rehearsed but at least I spoke calmly and concisely. I cocked my eyebrow as I glowered at him.

"If you hurt her, I. Will. Hurt. You. And Emmett, all six foot four, two hundred and thirty odd pounds of him, will anxiously wait for his turn after me. He's not afraid to go back to prison." Yeah, the last statement was bullshit but it was the punchline I needed.

Jake gulped. Precisely the response I was looking for.

"Y-yes, sir," he stammered.

I nodded curtly and stood up, essentially dismissing him.

"Mr. Cullen?"

"What?" I turned to face him.

"I want you to know..."

Isabella appeared then, interrupting whatever he was going to say. Wearing sweatpants and a ratty tee shirt, her hair was pulled back in a messy, wet ponytail, skin dewy and free of makeup. Jake's face lit up despite the fact that only moments before he'd been walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

"Hey," Isabella said, a smile lighting up her face. "I thought I heard your voice." She stepped forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. His hand slid around her waist as she leaned into him.

"You look beautiful," Jake quietly mustered.

Isabella waved off his compliment. "Everything okay here?" She raised her eyebrows and suspicions at me but Jake answered before I could.

"Yep, all good."

Isabella took his hand, fingers intertwined, and they went to the living room. Blindly, I reached for the arm of the chair needing something to sit down on before my legs gave out.

I knew - from the look on his face, from the way he uttered 'you look beautiful' - Jake was in love with Isabella. And knowing my daughter the way I did, watching how effortlessly she glided to his side, held his hand, kissed his cheek, I could tell she was madly in love with him.

And it took my breath away. For a really long time it had been just the two of us - Isabella and me. Watching them, I realized it was official. I wasn't my daughter's number one anymore. Jake didn't have just Isabella's heart in his hands, he had mine as well.

Thanks to Capricorn75 (Alanna) for your beta skills. I tinker long after she's done so the mistakes are mine (sorry)

Thank you all for reading and I look forward to your reviews (unless you're scolding me for 16 year olds having sex lol)