Page 132 of Protecting You

They’d curled her hair and added a ribbon, making his already beautiful little girl look perfectly adorable.

“Where’s Peri?” he asked her. “Have you seen my daughter?”

“You’re silly.”

He crossed the room and swept her into his arms. “You look so grown up! I’ll need a club to beat off the…”

Alyssa emerged from the hallway.

Oh, boy.

His mouth went dry. His thoughts fled.

He was in trouble. Serious trouble.

She wore a tentative smile, but it faded. Even with that worried look—which made no sense at all—she was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.

Her hair was curled. She wore makeup that made her already high cheekbones even higher, her large eyes even larger.

And that dress… Those legs.

Holy smoke.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

“What?” He glanced at Peri, trying to order his thoughts. With effort, he looked at Alyssa again, thanking God she couldn’t read his mind. “Yeah. You look…” He swallowed, trying to get moisture into his mouth, to make his brain function again. “You look…really nice.”

Those words didn’t even come close. He wasn’t sure there were words.

Her cheeks suffused with color. “Thank you. It’s Brooklynn’s.” After a moment, she added, “Obviously.” Her blush deepened. “Anyway, we need to go.”

“Right. Yeah.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Brooklynn, who was pretty, very pretty. But she didn’t make it hard for him to remember how to inhale. “I’ll drive. You’re riding with us, right?”

Brooklynn agreed, and the four of them piled into the Mustang for the short ride up the coast to the country club, his daughter talking the entire way.

He turned at an unobtrusive sign and stopped at a guard shack, rolling down his window.

The older man inside the small building wore a stern expression and a crisp black uniform. “Good afternoon, sir. How can I?—?”

“Hey, Dirk.” Alyssa leaned across Callan.

“Oh, Ms. Wright. I didn’t see you. Here for the big shindig?”

“We are. Brooklynn's in the backseat, and I have two guests.”

“Very good.” The guard opened the gate, and Callan drove through.

“Good security,” he noted.

“It’s one of Dad’s non-negotiables.”

Callan maneuvered down the long, manicured driveway toward the clubhouse, marveling at the explosion of flowering trees and blooming bushes set off against the emerald-green golf course that stretched along both sides of the narrow way.

This place dripped with wealth and influence. He should’ve chosen to buy a new suit the day before instead of his on-sale, budget slacks and sports coat.

At a posh place like this, he’d be pegged for a plebeian the moment he walked in the door.

His cell rang, loud over the speakers in the small car. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, then answered, “I’ll call you in two.”

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