Page 58 of Who's Your Daddy
I cough out a laugh. What a name for a plane. I can’t help but smile because even if I don’t want to be, I’m looking forward to the weekend too.
Chapter 18
Cal
“What the hell is this?” Lola gapes at the helicopter I arranged like she’s never seen one before.
“A whirly-twirly.”
The driver grabs our bags from the trunk, and when I try to follow him, Lola clutches my arm, stopping me.
“What’s he doing with our bags?”
I face her full-on, frowning at her wary expression. Is she nervous? This woman dislikes many things but I’ve never witnessed a legitimate fear of hers. Sure, she’s not a fan of maggots, but who is? And she’s a bit put off by our office,and Jersey in general, but that’s understandable. But a helicopter? It’s a mode of transportation.
“He’s loading them onto the helicopter. That’s how we’re getting to Boston. The flight’s shorter this way. We’ll be there in ninety minutes.”
Her sharp fingernails dig through my shirt and into my flesh. “You want me to sit in that forninety minutes?” Her words come out just as sharp as her nails.
I gently pry her fingers from my arm, hoping she hasn’t already drawn blood, and lace them with mine. Once I’m holding her securely, I can’t look away. Her tiny hand—a hand Iget such a thrill watching ball into a fist—looks right in mine. The softness of her skin is such a contrast to the hard persona she tries to affect. It’s warm too.
“Cal.”
I snap my gaze up to hers and tug her forward. “We’ll be fine. I’d never let anything happen to you.”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “Sure you wouldn’t. You’ve already forced me to move to Jersey and set me up in an office infested with maggots and ghosts andAmy.”
I shrug. “My father forced you into that. Not me.”
She groans up at the sky. “Terry, do you see what you’ve left me with!”
A surprised laugh rushes out of me. It’s the first time since my father’s death that I’ve felt anything other than sorrow or frustration when I’ve thought about him. It feels good, honestly, to talk about him in an exasperated way because he sure as hell made a mess of our lives. Though secretly, I’m glad. So I glance up at the sky and holler “Thanks, Dad!” hoping she’ll take it as sarcasm, even though the sentiment is an honest one.
Lola pulls her hand from mine and smacks me in the chest, but she’s smiling.
I snatch her hand and guide her toward our ride again.
Three strides later, she pulls up short. “Seriously, Cal, I don’t think I can get on there.”
Turning away from the powerful blades, I stand between her and the whirlybird, blocking the gusts of wind pummeling us. “It’ll be fun. An adventure.”
Her jaw ticks.
“But if you really don’t think you can do it, we can get back in the car and drive.”
Lola groans. “It’s like four hours on a good day. And it’s never a good day to drive through Connecticut.”
She’s not wrong. The damn highways in that state could make even the most patient man lose his mind.
I shrug. “I’d never complain about having more time with you.”
She rolls her eyes but her expression softens. Scrutinizing me like she’s trying to figure me out, she takes out her phone. When she taps the screen and checks the time, she deflates. “We’ll never make it.”
I step in close and gently swipe at the wisps of hair the wind has caused to break free from her braid. For a moment, I keep my hand there, my fingers brushing the sensitive skin behind her ear, and get lost in the emerald eyes I swear will be my undoing. “I’ll do whatever you want. I make an exceptional grand entrance.”
She presses her lips together like she’s trying to keep from feeling this pull that lives between us. But she can’t deny this heat. It burns hotter every time I look at her. With every reluctant smile she offers. With every scolding. With every softening glance.
She has to feel this.
