Come Fly With Me.... Fiona Brand

‘And the past few female companions I’ve had—I wouldn’t let within fifty feet of this little guy.’

      She almost choked on her soda. ‘Then maybe you should be more selective with your female friends.’ It was meant to sound playful, but it came out like a chastisement. All because her insides were wound up so tightly.

      He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Maybe I should.’

      It was left hanging in the air between them.

      She had no idea what to make of that. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. ‘You mean there’s absolutely no one you can ask to help you out?’

      ‘Just you.’

      ‘Dan...’ She looked out at the falling snow. If it were even possible, it seemed to be falling even heavier.

      She looked around the apartment and threw her hands in the air. ‘I don’t like this, Dan. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. It doesn’t matter that you’re a cop and one of the “good guys”.’ She put her fingers in the air and made the sign. ‘Baby or no baby, I can’t stay in an apartment with some strange guy. I’m just not comfortable.’

      He leaned back in his chair, watching her with those intense brown eyes.

      ‘What if I promise not to come near you at night? You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa. We can move the crib during the night. That way—you’ll still have some privacy but we’ll both know the other is there if we need a hand.’

      Her. In a room by herself with Abraham in a crib. She was going to throw up right there and then.

      And then Dan did something. He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I need help, Carrie. I need you. Don’t say you can’t do it.’

      A lump a mile wide appeared in her throat.

      He was leaning towards her in the dim light. Her eyes fixated on his lips. What was wrong with her? And what was wrong with her emotions?

      Everything about her wanted to run right now.

      But her ethics and her goodwill were making her stay. She couldn’t abandon Abraham right now. His own mother had already done that.

      She had been the one to find him. She should be the one responsible for him.

      ‘I feel really awkward about all this, Dan.’ She sighed.

      ‘Then let’s see if we can make you feel unawkward.’

      ‘Is that even a word?’

      ‘It is now.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘So, Carrie McKenzie, what’s your favourite movie?’

      ‘What?’ It was so not what she was expecting. She was expecting him to pry. To ask why she’d reacted like that. To ask what had been wrong with her this whole evening.

      The question was totally random and took her by surprise. It took a few seconds for her brain to think of an appropriate response. ‘If it’s adults’ it’s Dirty Dancing. If it’s kids’ then definitely Toy Story. What kind of a question is that anyway?’

      ‘A getting-to-know-you question,’ he said as he took a sip of his soda. Just like that. So matter-of-fact. Boy, this guy didn’t mess around. He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘What? You’ve never been on a date and done the getting-to-know-you questions before?’

      She opened her mouth to react, to ask what he meant, then stopped herself dead. He was being casual. He was being cool. And anything she would say right now would be distinctly uncool.

      One moment she’d been staring into his eyes wondering what it would be like to kiss him—next they were having a first-date kind of conversation.

      She took a deep breath. ‘It’s been a while,’ she said quietly. ‘I guess I’m out of practice.’

      ‘How long?’

      His question was fired back straight away. She could tell a lie here and try and pretend to be blasé. But it just didn’t suit her. ‘About seven years.’ She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. She’d had to think about that. Had it really been that long? She’d dated Mark for five years before she was pregnant with Ruby, and it had been more than a year since then. To Dan’s credit he didn’t even blink, no smart remarks, no more questions. It was as if he just filed the information away for use at a later date.

      She shouldn’t have said anything. It was time to move things back to the original question. Get off this subject completely. ‘You do realise I had to leave out the musicals—for obvious reasons.’

      The eyebrows lifted even further. ‘What obvious reasons?’

      She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t possibly count them. I’ll have you know I know the words to every song of every musical ever made.’ She gave him a cheeky wink. ‘And some of the dance moves.’

      He leaned across the table towards her. ‘The thing that scares me about that is—I believe you.’ He kept his eyes fixed on hers. ‘I might ask to see some of those dance moves.’

      She gulped. Colour was rushing to her cheeks. She’d been premature with that wink. Trying to appear sassier and way cooler than she actually was. Maybe not her best idea. Especially when she could almost feel the heat radiating from him. It was time to get this back to safer territory. ‘What about you?’ That was easy. That kept everything on an even keel.

      ‘Definitely The Great Escape, with Steve McQueen on the motorbike. Nothing can beat that.’

      She nodded. She’d watched the movie a hundred times—knew some of the lines by heart. ‘And a kids’ movie?’

      He had the good grace to look a little bashful. ‘You might be surprised. But I love Finding Nemo. I love Marlin and Dory. It’s one of those movies that you turn the TV on, walk past and find yourself sucked in for two hours. Just like that.’ He snapped his fingers.

      She couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on her face. ‘I wouldn’t have taken you for a Finding Nemo kind of guy.’

      He took another sip of soda. ‘See? There’s lots you don’t know about me. And vice versa. Are you feeling a little less awkward now.’

      She let out a little laugh. ‘Just because I know what films you like doesn’t mean I feel comfortable about staying in your apartment overnight.’

      He nodded slowly. ‘So, what brought you to New York, then, Carrie? I know your business owns the apartment upstairs, but why you? Why now?’

      There it was. The killer question—sneaked on in there when her defences were down. She should have seen this coming.

      How could she answer that? How could she answer any of that without giving herself away?

      She picked up her glass and walked over to the sink. ‘I’ll do the dishes.’ She started running the hot water and putting some washing-up liquid into the basin. ‘Seems only fair.’

      ‘But what if we’re not finished yet?’

      He knew. He knew exactly what she was doing. Distraction. Avoidance.

      She jumped. His voice was just at her shoulder. His warm breath next to her ear. ‘What do you mean?’ Darn it. Her voice was wavering. He would have heard it. He would know the effect he was having on her.

      So much for acting cool.

      He slid his glass in next to hers, his arms on either side of her body, capturing her between them.

      She could feel him up against her. One part of her wanted to relax. To let herself relax against him as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

      But her frantically beating heart wouldn’t let her. And her oxygen-deprived brain wasn’t playing ball, either.

      She watched the bubbles form in the warm water. Letting them come halfway up her arms.

      And