Page 2 of Beyond the Spotlight Discreet Version
She nods with her entire head and shoulders.
Her father watches us as if waiting to step in, either because I’m a stranger talking to his daughter or because he doesn’t want her bothering me.
“We were there yesterday. There was a lake, and I saw cows and a fairy queen.”
“A fairy queen?”
“Yeah. She said I could be a princess.”
“Do you want to be a princess?”
“I mean… princesses are cool, but I want to be a knight, like my dad.”
My eyes trail to her father again and he opens his mouth to explain, but the flight attendant returns with my extender.
“What’s that?” the little girl asks when I take it.
“Addy, what do I say about noses?”
He offers me an apologetic look, which I barely notice because holy crap, he has an accent—British; I believe. It’s not that strong, but it just made him ten times hotter. Not to mention this guy is built. Muscle city. His biceps struggle to be held in by the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Tight jeans swallow his meaty thighs. My eyes dart down to his bulge.
Damn it. He saw me scoping out his junk. He smirks and blushes and tugs on the baseball cap before turning back to his daughter as she talks.
“Noses are for smelling, not for sticking in places they don’t belong,” Addy answers in her high-pitched voice while nodding at each word.
So, he has an accent, but she doesn’t? Interesting.
“That’s right. Now, why don’t we leave the lovely lady alone, okay?”
Lovely?Wait. Is he just being British, or does he really think I’m lovely?
“I’m sorry. She’s usually quite shy around strangers.”
“I don’t mind at all.” I offer her a reassuring smile and hold up the seat belt extender to show the little girl. “The seat belts on the plane are too short to fit around my tummy. This makes them longer for me.”
“Oh, okay. Cool.” She looks down at her stomach. “My tummy gets big when I eat too much food. Like ice cream. It’s my favorite. Chocolate chip cookie dough with lots of chocolate syrup on top.”
She hops in her seat, and I laugh at all this energy at six in the morning.
“I love chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream too. Have you ever had it for breakfast?”
Her eyes widen.
“You can do that?”
I lean in and whisper, “You can...” I glance up at her dad and he’s cutting his throat with the tips of his fingers. “... but only with permission from your father.”
Her head whips around to the man, who narrows his eyes at me. “Can I, Dad? Please?”
I mouth ‘sorry’ at him and cover my mouth with my palm to hide my amusement.
“We’ll see.”
She groans and slams her head back on the seat. “That means no.”
“It means, ‘we’ll see.’”
The remaining passengers board and take their seats. As the plane taxis, the crew makes their final checks. All while my little seat mate chats my ear off.
