Page 8 of Her Royal Daddy
The plane shuddered, a bumpy bit of air turbulence, and she threw out both arms, smacking her bunny against one wall and dropping the water to grab my arm with the other. The way she looked around the bathroom said clearly she had every expectation of not surviving this flight.
Catching her arm back, holding her steady, I helped her to the closed toilet. “Sit.”
She did, immediately pulling her bunny into her lap and watching with big eyes as I dropped to one knee beside her. I tried to flip over her bag without losing anything else out of it, but only made a bigger mess. One that seemed to panic Norah. She all but fell off the toilet in her scramble to stuff everything back into her duffel, apparently before I could.
“I’m sorry,” she slurred, practically diving under me to snatch up hair ties and crayons, and cracked the top of her head against my chin. She had a hard head. I almost saw stars. “I’m sorry!” she wailed, grabbing the top of her head now as she sat back on her knees. “I didn’t mean to!”
The fact that she looked close to tears was the only reason I wasn’t laughing.
“Shh, shh,” I soothed, catching her by her head now too, not just to keep her from knocking into me again, but so I could rub the tender spot. “It’s okay. Just sit there.”
“My balance sucks,” she sniffled.
“You’re a little drunk,” I said, chuckling. “Here, hold this open for me.”
Passing her the duffel bag, it was my hope that giving her a job would keep her sitting still while I cleaned up the floor. Makeup went back into the pink makeup bag. Crayons went back into their box. Both went back into the duffel bag, held open between her hands and between her knees. Everything else went back in as neat as I could manage it, considering it was all loose anyway. Soon, the only thing not in the bag was the bunny tucked up against her side.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she warned, noticing the direction my gaze had wandered and completely mistaking my intentions. “I’m all done being made fun of.”
I refused to let myself look at that barely discernable bruise around her eye. Unfortunately, I couldn’t quite manage that same control over my mouth. “Is that what he did?” I asked.
She hiked her chin, her beautiful eyes narrowing slightly as if looking for the mockery that surely must underlie my words and not trusting herself when she couldn’t find it. “Among other things.” Her chin hiked a notch higher still. “I got rid of him for it too.”
“Good for you.” Good for me too. No more black eyes for her meant I wouldn’t have to go to jail for hunting the bastard down and explaining in painful detail exactly why he was never going to raise his fist to another woman again.
The floor picked up once more, I zipped her duffel bag closed. “All done.”
She looked down at her bag, then around the tidy bathroom once more.
“How’s your stomach?” I asked. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
When she nodded, I stood up. Shouldering her bag for her, I held out my hand. “Don’t forget your friend.”
“Her name is Ms. Beatrix,” Norah said primly, even as she clapped her hand into mine and tried to stand. “She’s—whoop!” With my help, she found her feet, but not her balance. I caught her when she fell into me. Her shock melted into amusement and for the first time, Norah laughed. She patted my chest. “I think I’m a little bit tipsy.”
“Yeah.” I smiled, shaking my head. “Certain drinks will do that. Come on, now.” On a plane as snazzy as this one, I was almost sure there had to be a bed somewhere. “One foot in front of the other. Let’s find you someplace to lie down.”
