“Are you going to answer it?” Luke asked, watching me.
“Nope.”
“You can answer your phone, Charlotte.”
Looking out the window, I knew we were only two blocks from my place. Which means it was only two blocks and an elevator ride before I could be riding Luke. I didn’t have time to talk to anyone and frankly, I didn’t want to.
“It’s not important.” I brushed it off, only for it to fall silent for a couple of breaths and start again.
“Charlotte,” Luke said as he took my purse from me, pulled out my phone, and handed it to me.
Rolling my eyes, I accepted it. We were stopped at a red light only one block away. Glancing down, I saw Hannah’s name. My blood ran cold. All thoughts about getting down and dirty and riding Luke until sunrise vanished instantly. Hannah knew I was out with Luke. She knew how much I was looking forward to it. She wouldn’t call unless it was important. And she certainly wouldn’t keep calling.
Glancing over at Luke, I accepted the call and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Charlotte!” Mason answered, sounding frantic.
“Mason? What’s wrong?”
“Hannah’s … Hannah’s …”
“Mason! Breathe,” I snapped, trying to get him to focus enough to tell me what was going on.
“Charlotte, she’s … she’s …”
“I’m in fucking labor, Charlotte. And this idiot passed out and hit his head!” Hannah yelled out in the background.
I snorted.
I could just picture it. Hannah’s water breaking. Mason freaking out and passing out cold on the floor. Mason was a fixer and seeing his wife in pain, knowing he couldn’t fix it, he wouldn’t cope.
“What do you need?” I asked, looking over at Luke and feeling guilty.
“Can you come?” Hannah asked, and I realized I was on speaker.
Can I come? Well, I’d been planning on it, but I guess I had to put my libido on ice. My best friend needed me and no matter how horny I was, I wasn’t about to let her down.
Sending a pleading look, I hoped Luke would understand. I needed to believe he would. So, I did what I had to. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
14
LUKE
“You don’t looklike a man who spent his night with a beautiful woman,” Mrs. Neal commented over Isla’s head.
My daughter might like wearing tiaras and looking pretty, but she was rough as guts sometimes. The moment I opened the door she’d come charging at me, crashing straight into me, her skinny arms wrapping around my waist. Not that I was complaining. One day she’d be too old to give her old man a hug so I was taking what I could get.
“Let’s just say things didn’t go exactly as planned,” I offered, hoping that’d be the end of that conversation.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yes, princess?” I asked, squatting down to Isla’s height.
“Want to hear a joke?”
“Do I ever!” I faked excitement, something I was getting really good at. I don't know where she’d picked it up, but all of a sudden Isla was into telling jokes. Every day a new joke. And they weren’t funny. I thought Dad jokes were bad, but there was something about kid jokes that were even worse.
“Why can’t you give Elsa balloons for her birthday?” Isla asked, beaming.
