Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,34
change, but the walls that we’ve put up to avoid messy entanglements are disappearing with every minute we spend together.
“You’ll be the judge,” I pause, focused on her pouty lips. “Not sure if it’s a good idea though.”
She lets out a small, breathy laugh, and says, “It’s terrible. Which is why I’ll start calling myself the life of the party.”
“Now you’re just throwing fibs to miss what might be the best kiss of your life,” I warn her, resuming our walk. “You are scared of me.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. If she feels a little of what I do, she’s craving more than just a simple kiss. That should be my birthday present. Shouldn’t it?
We stop at some picnic tables that are outside the visitor center. She eats some soup, drinks water, and munches on a cracker while we talk about the archeological discoveries that have happened in the park.
“Do your parents keep any of the objects they find?”
She twists her lips and looks at the visitor center before answering, “No. That’d be illegal. They have plenty of pictures, papers, and have written books about it. I should start getting them better deals with their publishers.”
“They write?”
She nods. “Teaching is their second passion, and if they can teach the world through books, they are happy.”
“But you don’t want to be like them?”
She squeezes her eyes and lets out some air before speaking. “I adore them, but it was nerve wracking to be their child. Imagine not having a place to call home and having to fit all your belongings in just a suitcase you share with your sister. That’s something I never want to experience again or want my kids to undergo. It’s not fun to live with uncertainty.”
I reach for her hand and clasp it. Her eyes open and she smiles.
“It sounds selfish,” she continues. “But the anxiety is still there, lurking underneath the fun experiences, the happy memories, and the adventures.”
“Your feelings are valid. Parents never think about their actions and how they’ll affect and shape the future of their children,” I voice, wondering if I’m speaking from experience or just trying to validate her.
I let her hand go because the heat between us is beginning to burn me from the inside out.
Her brown eyes stare at me widely.
“Time to continue this hike and shake the past,” she announces, and I want to ask her if it’s worth fighting the attraction.
We’re right on the edge of the cliff and one push can get us naked and ready to fuck the brains out of each other. It’s easy to talk myself out of it when I receive a text from Ford wishing me a happy birthday. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his happiness.
For the rest of the way up and back to the car we’re silent, but it’s a peaceful calm that I enjoy just as much as her presence. When I ask her where to, she tells me her parents’. The traffic isn’t bad, but the distances make up for the time I spend on I-5 or around New York fighting the congestion.
We arrive at her parents’ home around four, and her Dad offers me a handcrafted beer. He gives a ginger seltzer to Nyx.
“It’s good,” she admits.
“I made enough to fill up a case. I left it by the door. Take it home,” he instructs and glances at me. “It should help you with your condition.”
“Thank you, Dad.” Nyx kisses his cheek and hugs him. “But I don’t have a condition.”
He takes me to the room where he crafts his beer and whatever drinks his daughters request. I haven’t seen them with the rest of his children, but I can see that he adores Nyx. He doesn’t ask her how she feels, but he watches her closely. Before I do anything else, I put the case in the trunk.
When I come back, Nyx and Brock are on the couch. There’s a book on top of her chest, but she’s fast asleep. I grab the purple throw blanket from the top of the other couch and cover her. I head to the backyard where her father is in front of the grill.
“What is it that you do?” he asks me while he’s grilling eggplants and other vegetables.
“Ford and I own a few companies,” I answer.
“Do you program like him?”
“No. I manage, sell, and plan, while he produces,” I explain, believing it’s the easiest way to give him a glimpse of what we do.