Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“Hey, Mr. B,” I tell him through the glass. “You gonna let me out of here so I can give you a present?”
He squeals and jumps off before bouncing up and down. I exit the vehicle and dig around in my pocket for his gift. I’ve started collecting beer bottle caps from different places that sell local beer.
“You’re going to turn my son into an alcoholic one day,” Krissy says, walking outside and into the yard, a grin on her lips.
I ruffle Brennan’s hair and hand him a bottle cap. “Beer is gross,” I remind him. “It makes you grow boobs.”
He rolls around in the grass, howling with laughter. “Momma! Mr. Z said boobs!”
Krissy swats at me, but I dodge her. “You’re a bad influence on my guys.”
“Your husband started it,” I try to defend, holding my palms up. “He corrupted me first.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she playfully grumbles. “How’ve you been, Camilo? Carson told me all about your women troubles.”
I grunt. “Woman.”
Her smile is beautiful and her blue eyes gleam. “Ahh, he said that, but I wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth. One woman, huh?”
“Just one.”
She pulls me to her for a hug. “Good boy. Now get inside and finish telling me all about the girl who has the only other flirty pilot I know all twisted up in knots.”
We head inside and meet Carson in the kitchen as he walks in from the back with a plate full of grilled foods. It’s several moments of chaos as we make our plates and settle at the table. Brennan tells me all about a giant bullfrog he’s been trying to coax into becoming his pet. Krissy shudders every time he mentions how close he gets to capturing it. Carson just watches his boy with rapt attention and a huge grin on his face. I find myself caught up in the way the three of them interact. The stupid longing inside my heart begins its tugging once again.
Carson doesn’t seem tied down whatsoever. If anything, he seems free. Happy as can be. His eyes shine brighter than any time we’ve been high in the skies. I’m witnessing it with new eyes this time.
“Okay, spill,” Krissy says once dinner is over and she slides a slice of pie my way.
Brennan has gone off to play. Carson leans back in his chair, his eyebrow arched in an amused way as he waits for my response.
“I found a girl I liked,” I admit with a sigh.
“A girl?” she asks.
“The girl,” Carson clarifies. “As in the one.”
“And why isn’t she here?” Krissy frowns.
“In Florida?” I ask in exasperation. “She lives in California.”
“So?” Krissy says with a huff. “You fly planes for a living.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” I grumble.
“How?” she demands. Carson shrugs when I glance at him.
“She has a guy,” I start.
“An old one,” Carson offers unhelpfully.
“She’s married?” Krissy’s blue eyes are wide and horrified.
“No,” I grit out. “She’s disillusioned into thinking he’s the one for her.” I scrub my palm down my face. “He doesn’t deserve her.”
“Wow,” Krissy says with a surprised laugh. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Told you,” Carson says to her with a wide grin. “She’s the one for him.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” I argue. “We barely know each other.”
Carson and Krissy exchange a knowing look.
“I’m serious,” I say, shaking my head.
“Eat your pie,” Krissy sasses. “Then, we’re going to discuss how you’re going to get our girl back.”
Great.
Now she’s our girl.
And why did my heart twist inside my chest at that proclamation?
“How is he?” I ask Regina as I sign in at the front desk.
“Smiley’s good. Question is, how are you, Mr. Jet Setter?”
“Been busy with work. Hurricane Rodrigo derailed our plans a little.” Understatement of the year.
“I heard that hurricane beat up Mexico quite a bit. Your momma and family okay?”
“Perfect,” I tell her with a forced smile, not at all ready to get into the drama that was this past week.
Regina guides me down the hallways that smell like ammonia mixed with pine. We reach Dad’s room and push inside. He’s sitting in his usual spot in his wheelchair, staring out the window up at the sky.
“Mr. Zaragoza,” Regina says. “Your boy’s here to see you.”
Dad doesn’t turn to look. He doesn’t do much these days. I walk over to him and squat down in front of him. Regina gives me a wink before leaving the room to give us our privacy. I take Dad’s hand, but his attention is still fixated on the sky.
“Missed you,” I tell him. “Sorry I didn’t come here first. The Klein were cooking and I went to go see them.”
No response.
I’m still not used to that after all these months. Dad was my best friend. My confidant. My everything. He took my dream and made it his own. We did this together. Every step of the way.