Oscar reached his hand out to me. “Lovey.”
I cautiously took his well-manicured hand.
He held my hand between his own. “I don’t know the exact arrangement between you and our mate, but believe me when I say the man is besotted with you.Perhaps even with the new life he is living here in the Wild West. It will be interesting to see how it all works out.”
Things certainly took an interesting turn.
Miles came down to have lunch with us. He kept casting me furtive glances from across the table while his friends regaled me with tales of them closing down pubs, singing for their dinner in poorer days, all the way to holidays in Monte Carlo where Miles was stalked by several cougars in their sixties. While we were all laughing about how Miles had to hire security to save him from senior citizens, Penelope walked in with a camera case slung across her shoulder and a look that said she wished I’d never been born. I was thankful my mom called, giving me the excuse to walk into the kitchen and answer my phone. Granted, Penelope could still see me, but the kitchen was full of weapons in the event I needed to protect myself from her.
“Hello.” I kept my eyes on Penelope, who was rubbing Miles’s shoulders. She was making everyone uncomfortable, even Henry, who threw a fruit snack at her. I loved that kid. It was a good aim too. It landed in her hair, making her squeal. I had to hide my smile.
“Honey, it’s Mom. I have some bad news.” This was never a good conversation starter. My heart started pounding wildly thinking of all the possibilities, from my siblings being in an accident all the way to my mom hating Miles’s book. She was currently readingA Rose for Every Season.
I turned around against my better judgment, praying Miles wouldn’t let his ex-lover hurt me. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s your dad. He’s an idiot.”
Oh. That was a relief. I mean, not that I was happy to hear my father was an idiot, but it was better than a paralyzing injury or heart attack. “What did he do?”
“I’ve told him a dozen times not to eat at the gas station near his office, but does he listen? No. He got an egg salad sandwich of all things there yesterday. He’s been up all night having it come out of both ends, if you get my drift.”
Loud and clear. Yuck.
“Honey, he’s so sorry, but he’s in no shape to take Chloe to the dance tonight. He’ll make it up to her.”
I leaned against the refrigerator. “Is he sure he can’t take her?”
“He fell asleep on the bathroom floor and he’s still running a fever. I know this means a lot to her, but I’m sorry, honey, it’s not possible.”
“Okay,” I choked out. “I hope Dad feels better soon.”
“We’ll try and make it to her game tomorrow if we can. I have another report for Miles.” Of course she did.
I hung up, feeling ill.
“Everything all right, love?”
I jumped. I hadn’t realized Miles was standing behind me, too close for my own good. My entire body zinged and zanged. I gazed up into his tell-me-everything eyes.
He hesitantly reached out and wiped an errant tear off my cheek. “What’s happened?”
“My dad got food poisoning and he can’t take Chloe to the daddy-daughter dance tonight. She’s going to be crushed, especially after Leland’s brief appearance and then him skipping town. She was looking forward to dressing up.”
Miles pressed his lips together. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. “What if I tookher?”
I could hardly believe I’d heard him right. “You have plans tonight. I don’t want to ruin those for you.” I peeked around him at his friends staring at us, one was shooting daggers at me with her eyes while the other two were egging me on.
He glanced back at them for a moment before focusing right back on me. “Chloe is more important.”
He had no idea what those four words meant to me. I flung myself against him and wrapped my arms around him. “Are you sure?”
He enveloped me in his arms. “Absolutely.”
“Thank you.” I breathed him in.
“It’s my pleasure.”
It was then I realized I belonged in his arms. How I longed to stay there, but I knew he was unsure, so I untangled myself from him. I was never again placing myself in a man’s arms who wasn’t one hundred and ten percent sure that’s where he wanted me to stay. “I’m sorry for . . . uh . . . you know . . . touching you . . . I mean, hugging you.” Why did I always sound like an imbecile in front of him?
