Page 48 of Ice Ice Maybe
“Ooh …” I rubbed my hands together in eager anticipation. “What kind of car did you get?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Nolan said with a smirk. “You’ll be happy to know that I could secure a vehicle that satisfies the needs and desires of both your parents. Luxury and style for Mr. Dalton’s expensive taste, along with something thrilling and fun that would easily quench the adventurous thirst of your mother. A metallic red BMW M8 Competition.” He jingled the keys in the air again. “Convertible.”
“What about the thunderstorms in Nashville?” Dad asked.
Nolan shrugged. “I’m sure they will be long gone by the time we get there.”
The man never ceased to amaze me.
Nolan remembered I had told him the day we met at Lucha Libre Taco Shop that Dad preferred that I drive around in a BMW or Mercedes instead of my Chevy Malibu.
“I adore you, Nolan,” Mom declared, stepping closer and planting an appreciative kiss on his cheek.
Not to be outdone, I sidled up to him.
“Well, if we’re keeping score, I adore you exponentially more,” I announced. Before my brain caught up with my heart, I was on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his.
Nolan melted into the kiss, but he suddenly stiffened and pulled away. Reality came crashing back to smack me between the eyes when I realized what I had done. Our shocked gazes met. We turned slowly toward Dad, looking for his reaction to the kiss. Not a surprise, his face contorted into a scowl.
“I should have known this would happen at some point,” he grumbled, his gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of us.
“It’s not what you think,” Nolan blurted.
“Save it!” Dad interrupted. “Do you take me for a fool? It’s as clear as day what’s going on here!”
My heart pounded.
This was it.
He knew.
“Dad, I can explain?—”
“No need,” he cut me off. “Did you really think you could distract me with that ridiculous fake kiss so I’d forget about the rental car and the fact that Nolan is going to drive? You can fool Mitch with that crap, but not me.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned by his completely misguided conclusion.
Mom swooped in, miraculously able to contain her amusement. “Oh, you caught them red-handed, dear. These youngsters can’t pull one over on you!” She shot us a wink as she sauntered past, leaving Dad nodding in self-satisfaction.
“That's right,” Dad declared, puffing out his chest while his gut strained against his belt. “Nice try, but your old man’s too sharp for your tricks. Now, let’s hit the road before I come to my senses about this driving nonsense.”
As we trailed behind them, Nolan leaned in close, his warm breath tickling my ear. “Your dad’s powers of observation are truly something else.”
I bit my lip, suppressing a laugh. “Lucky for us.”
Sadly, Dad was completely inept in matters of the heart. He could spot a lucrative investment opportunity from a mile away, but couldn’t recognize genuine affection if it tap-danced in front of him wearing a neon sign. How could he be so oblivious tothe sparks flying between Nolan and me? It was like watching a chess grandmaster struggle with a game of tic-tac-toe.
Still, I was sure it would be only a matter of time before he was onto us. The question was, how would Dad react when he found out I had strong feelings for a man he clearly did not approve of?
Chapter Thirteen
Nolan
The BMW M8 purred like a contented cat as we cruised east on Interstate 40 toward Nashville. The car was a dream machine, like the rental agent told me, but I’d miscalculated one crucial factor: Mr. Dalton’s size. There was no way he could squeeze into the back seat. So instead of having Zena as my copilot, I was stuck beside her father.
To my surprise, Mr. Dalton’s earlier grumpiness had been replaced by curiosity. His eyes roamed the car’s interior, nodding approvingly as he ran his hand along the Merino leather upholstery.
“This car certainly has some power,” he finally said, shocking me. It was possibly the first time he’d spoken to me without complaining, yelling, or barking orders.
