Crazy for Loving You A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy - Pippa Grant Page 0,110

cleans up people’s reputations. But being around people who need cleaning means he knows a thing or two about dirt.

I like the guy.

We land at the private Bluewater airstrip, and my nerves kick into high gear. My balls tell them to stand down, but it doesn’t help.

And no, I’m not nervous about the fact that I just kidnapped a criminal from a country without an extradition treaty. Nor am I nervous about dropping the fucker with a guy Jude knows who doesn’t ask any questions about where we found him, but who we can trust to make sure the asshole gets where he needs to be.

Jude drives me back to where I need to be. He offers a fist bump before I get out. “Nice job out there.”

“Ooh-rah. Where’d you learn to fly a helicopter?”

He grins. “Same place I learned to kick old ladies’ asses in shuffleboard.”

The liar follows me into the house—habit, probably.

It’s been ten days since Remy’s attempted kidnapping. Ten days too long to do what I need to do right now.

But we both need to see that Remy’s still safe.

And he is. Comfortably swinging and sleeping in the bright living room while Becca plays Angry Birds on her phone next to him.

She jumps up when we enter, her gaze going to me, then up, up, up to Jude. “Hey! You’re back. That was…quick.”

“Just lunch,” Jude says. “Windows locked?”

“Yes. Everyone’s safe.”

He nods, and without another word, turns and leaves.

“Thanks,” I say to Becca.

“Of course. Anytime.” She gnaws on her lower lip while I head over to kiss Remy. “Did you really go to lunch?”

“Yep.” Yesterday. To plot out today after we got intel on where Roderick was hiding.

“You just seem…different. Not…like you just got back from lunch.”

“Never know when a lunch is going to change your life.” I pull Remy out of his travel swing. He fusses and yawns, but he and I have somewhere to be.

“You’re really good with him.”

“He makes it easy. Thanks again for watching him. Catch you later?”

“Yeah.” I thank her once more before I grab Remy’s diaper bag and travel swing. This feels like goodbye.

In a good way.

I load Remy into my car, and we hit the road.

Miami drivers are insane today, but I have precious cargo, so we take our time, which only makes my heart pump faster and the doubts and fears whisper louder. I distract myself by talking to Remy, who’s strapped in tight. He coos in response, and fuck, I love that kid.

He’s a lot of work. But he smiles when I walk in the door. The way he pumps his legs when he’s hungry—so fucking adorable. He’s getting better at holding his head up. And rocking him to sleep every night puts me more at peace than I’ve been in forever.

Except for that little hole in my heart where Daisy still belongs.

Once we get across the causeway, I turn the radio on to try to calm my nerves, but instead, the first thing I hear is two deejays talking about an anonymous donor who arranged catering for a full early Thanksgiving feast at all the Coast Guard stations around Miami.

Dessert included.

Of course.

I reach the Bluewater gate, and the guard holds up a hand. My heart stops in time with my truck.

“You got that baby?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say slowly.

He peeks in the back, and a grin as wide as the sea spreads over his face. “Miss that little fella. He’s getting big. You should come by more often.”

He waves me through, and I head into Daisy’s enclave. There are people playing tennis near the condo buildings. The Wealthy Widows are sipping something on the tropical miniature golf course’s clubhouse patio. Frank the parrot flies by overhead, and I can only imagine what’s coming out of his little beak.

The shops in the village are busy but not crowded, with a few putting out early Christmas lights, and people wave as we drive by.

It’s so Daisy.

Happy and a little wild, but also full of heart.

We pull down her long, empty driveway, and I wonder if I’ve gotten the wrong intel. If she’s not actually home. I know she quit her job. I know Imogen Carter’s on the verge of being overthrown at her own company by her board, and that Daisy’s being begged to go back. Even temporarily to oversee a smooth transition. And I’ve been led to believe that despite telling her yacht captain to take the boat to sea to make it look like she’s left town, she’s