Page 93 of Boiling Point
I cleared my throat, eyes on my glass. “Actually…my father is titled.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means that while Hawthorne is our surname, my father is the Baron Branleigh. So, my parents are Lord and Lady Branleigh.”
“Baron?” Her voice lifted in disbelief. “Like, actually noble?” She blinked. “Not just posh and judgy?”
I nodded.
“Were you planning to tell me, or did you just forget to mention it?”
“I didn’t forget,” I said. “I just…didn’t think it mattered. Or rather—I didn’t want it to.”
“So…are you in line for something?”
“Oh, heavens no. That dubious honor falls to my dear brother, James. Better him than me.”
“I’m sensing some tension…”
“Just a bit. But that’s a story for another day.”
She studied me for a moment, lips pressed together. “So what does that make you, exactly? Do I have to call you anything special?”
I leaned across the divider and nipped her ear. “You can call me anything you like.”
She swatted me. “I’m serious. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
“Just Cal.”
“What’s that short for? I’ve been meaning to ask…”
I blew out a quick breath. “Callum.” I rolled my eyes. “My great-grandfather’s name. Ghastly, I know.”
“No… Just not what I expected.”
“What did you think it was?”
“No idea. I panicked and told my aunt it was Calvin.”
I laughed. “Calvin?”
She shrugged. “What? I panicked.”
The flight attendant returned to collect the towels and glasses before takeoff.
“So…just Cal. Not ‘Lord’ or ‘Sir’ or?—”
“Just Cal. I technically have a courtesy title, but that only shows up on formal correspondence and place cards.”
“And that would be…”
“Technically?” I sighed. “The Honourable Callum Hawthorne.”
Gabrielle snorted.
“Yes, go on, get it out of your system.”
“Sorry,” she said, still grinning. “It’s just…”
