Crushing on my Billionaire Best Friend - Jolie Day Page 0,71

to the driving range and made her change her pretty pink heels. Paybacks… Ha! “Would you rather I wear something pink, ’cause that’s not happening.”

Laney burst out laughing and stood from the table. “Get your shoes on, Sweat Stain.”

“Ah, there it is, my favorite term of endearment.” I shook my head and did as she said. “Nerdy Birdy.”

I smiled and followed her out the door.

The elevator ride down was silent, but not as silent as the long, tortuous drive to her dad’s place just outside the city. It seemed our playful banter had shifted again. I opted for one of my drivers to take us when I remembered how dinners at her dad’s usually involved several bottles of wine. And he would never let me leave with his precious baby girl in my car after we had a few drinks. We’d have to call a cab. I was not about to sleep at his place with everything that was going on between us.

Every time I glanced over at her in the darkness of the backseat, I racked my brain for something to say. But as much as I wanted nothing to have changed, it was too late. Now when I looked at her, all I could think to do was compliment her or talk to her the way I would any other woman I was interested in. Unless Laney initiated the conversation. How fucked up was that? She’d started our usual teasing back and forth in the kitchen before we left—and I had to admit, I loved it—but now I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. I was fucked. I could only hope things would settle back to “our normal” over dinner.

She smiled at me awkwardly as we approached the doorstep of her father’s two-story suburban home—the same house she’d grown up in. I remembered it well from high school. Mr. Carter answered within seconds, like he’d been waiting for us by the door.

He immediately scooped Laney into his arms for a big bear hug. His body towered over hers at well over six feet. The years had packed a lot onto his gut, but his legs were skinny and long as ever.

“Oh, my baby girl.” He grinned and kissed her hair, like they hadn’t seen each other for years. But I knew it couldn’t have been more than a month. “I’ve been worried sick about you. You look thinner. Do you get enough to eat?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” she groaned, prying herself from his arms.

He turned to me with his warm smile, red cheeks, and salt-and-peppered hair. “Oliver, is it ever good to see you.” He pulled me in for a hug, too, patting my shoulders.

“Good to see you as well, Mr. Carter.”

“Oh, none of that. You’re family. You know to call me Mark.” He patted my shoulder again before ushering us inside. “Since we’re celebrating, I put a bottle of champagne on ice. But my bar’s always stocked. I don’t drink much these days unless I’m having company over, which doesn’t seem to happen often.” He shot Laney an accusing stare.

“Dad, come on. You know I visit as often as I can. I’m busy with work, and you’re forty-five minutes outside the city.”

“She is a workaholic.” I slid my hands in my pockets. “I had to beg her just to take a few days off work after the fire.”

Her eyes grew wide as she glared at me, begging me to stop talking. But Mark knew exactly what I was talking about.

“I believe it. She’s always been that way.” He chuckled. “Gosh, Oliver, I just can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of my baby girl.”

There it was. I almost choked on my saliva. Yup. I needed a drink. Or three.

Laney cleared her throat, her cheeks glowing bright pink. “So, Dad! How’s dinner coming along? Need help with anything?”

“You know I always do. Your mother was the better cook. Come with me into the kitchen. Oliver, the champagne’s on the table, but there’s a bottle of bourbon right over there. Help yourself. Make yourself at home. You know the drill.”

Laney flashed her eyes at me over her shoulder just before they vanished behind the swinging doors into the kitchen. It had to be strange for her, having me around under the circumstances. Normally, she’d drag me along to visit her dad so we could laugh about him behind his back—in a mildly annoyed, but mostly adoring sort of way. I was like her refuge from his