Page 112 of Theirs to Hunt
"You want me to drive you to work?"
She hesitates.
"Actually... I think I need a little space. Sing badly. Pretend I am not thinking about both of you."
She pauses.
"You can follow behind me in the SUV."
I do not like it. Not even a little.
But I nod.
"Okay. But you are taking the Bentley. Nothing else. Go upstairs and get changed."
She kisses my cheek. Quick, warm.
"Thanks, Daddy Lion."
Then darts up the stairs.
God help me.
The thought of us with a baby?
I adjust myself before moving to make her a to-go coffee.
I consider adding whiskey to mine.
Chapter eighty-eight
Brooks, Tuesday 08:50 a.m.
We were two blocks from Calhoun Tower.
Morning traffic.
Green light ahead.
She was singing, windows cracked.
I could see her head bobbing through the back windshield.
Then a blur.
A flash.
A car from the other lane veered directly into her path.
Head-on. Full speed. No hesitation.
It hit with a metallic scream.
Glass shattering.
Steel buckling.
Airbag smoke clouding everything.
