Page 196 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“You have a point,” she conceded, but worry still lingered in her gaze.
“I promise, if there’s anything you need to know, I’ll tell you,” he answered, glancing at the zipped pocket on the hoodie draped on the seat next to him.
“You’re promising me the truth?” she asked. Her teasing tone had vanished, and he knew why. She had a rocky track record when it came to men making her promises.
He kissed her, capturing her mouth tenderly, in a slow, soulful exchange. “I promise that I love you. I love you so much, I can’t see straight. I won’t let you down, plum.”
Like your bloody father—but he kept that thought to himself.
“I love you, too,” she answered when a chime rang out. “And…that’s my cell. We can get back to the lei business after I see who’s texting,” she added and climbed off his lap to get the device.
“Who is it? Sebastian again?”
She stared at the mobile’s screen and grinned. “It’s your sisters.”
“How’d they get your number?”
“Oh, I don’t know?” she answered, her lightness returning. “Possibly from your grandmother, or any of my friends, or Sebastian, or Madelyn, or Augie, or Luanne. Maybe Maud or Wobbly Bob? Shall I go on?”
“Smart-ass,” he murmured.
“And I might have suggested my brothers reach out to them.”
“Your brothers?”
“My brothers are big into volunteering. They build medical clinics while studying to be doctors, and your sisters were doing volunteer work, teaching English. I figured they had similar interests.”
He growled. “I’m fine with them being friends. Just let them know Calliope and Callista aren’t allowed to date until they’re thirty-five.”
“You’re thirty-two!” she shot back.
“I know,” he answered, stewing.
“Oh, stop, you big protective beefcake! They’re grown women,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then showed him her phone. “Callista sent a pic. She and Calliope decorated the barn. With the rain, they made the call to set up inside.”
“Is that a donkey luau?” he asked, then looked closer. “And is that Wobbly Bob in the background with my granny Fin?”
“You mean Robbie,” she answered with a twinkle in her eyes. “And Finola’s got a pretty wide grin on her face.”
He stewed some more. “What’s my granny got in common with a donkey rescue cowboy?”
“What’s a Zen yoga teacher got in common with a first-rate beefcake?” she tossed back.
He sighed. “Point taken.”
Libby scrolled through the message. “Your sisters say that Sebastian got the idea to make his donkey birthday a donkey luau when your grandmother told him you’d taken me to Hawaii. And it appears that we’ll be feasting on pineapple grilled cheese sandwiches.”
He cringed. “That’s a thing?”
“With Mitch and Oscar cooking, I’m sure it’ll be an amazing thing. They want to know when we’ll be there. We’re landing soon, aren’t we?”
He reached for his mobile, checked the flight plan, then glanced out the window, now spattered with raindrops. He spied the majestic stretch of the Rocky Mountains through the haze of dark clouds when another chime, this time coming from the jet, pinged, signaling the aircraft’s descent.
“There’s your answer, plum,” he said, then scrolled through his texts. “And Briggs is picking us up. He’ll probably want to talk PR, so prepare yourself for a boring drive back to Rickety Rock.”
He’d tried to infuse humor into his words, but anxiety panged in his chest. It was starting up again—the countdown until another big fight. He tried to ignore the feeling. He’d be ready. There would be no bloody panic attacks bringing him to his knees this time.
“Help me pack everything up,” Libby said, springing into action. “I’ll text your sisters back and let them know we won’t be long. It’s what, thirty minutes from the airport in Aspen to Rickety Rock?”
