The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(109)

I smile broadly as I watch her run into the bathroom once more.

An hour later

We walk through the underground parking lot as Hayden looks around at the surroundings. I hit the button, and my garage doors begin to slowly rise. “This is it.”

She frowns as she looks in. “This is your car?”

“Uh-huh.” I smile proudly. She’s low and black and purrs like a kitten.

“What kind of car is that?”

“A McLaren.”

She twists her lips, unimpressed. “Do you have anything less wankerish?”

“This car is not wankerish.” I gasp, horrified. Actually, she may have a point. “I do need to wank after driving her because it makes me fucking hard.”

“Christopher.” She frowns as she stares at it. “We can’t take this to the farm to meet my parents.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous.”

“It is not ridiculous, Hayden.” I put my hands on my hips in exasperation. “It’s a work of fucking art.”

She rolls her eyes. “We are not taking this to the farm.”

“Why not?”

“I just told you, my father will laugh in your face.”

“Not a car man?”

“Not a wanker man.”

“News flash. All men wank, Hayden.” I roll my eyes. “Okay, what about we take the Porsche.” I gesture to the car beside it.

“No.”

I wince. “The Aston Martin?”

“Haven’t you got something less—”

I cut her off. “Magnificent?”

“Showy.”

“No,” I snap, annoyed. “I don’t, and why would I want to?” I square my shoulders. “Eddie would love these cars,” I mutter dryly.

“Eddie’s not here.” She turns and walks toward the elevator.

“Where are you going?” I call.

“To call a rental-car company,” she calls back.

“What for?”

“Because my father will eat you alive if you turn up in that poser car.”

I march after her. “Poser car?”



We bounce up and down as we drive along. “Can’t complain about the suspension in this piece of shit.” My eyes flick over to her. “There is none.”

The Toyota utility she made me hire is just that, a piece of fucking shit, and to top it off the only color available was red.

A red utility. Kill me now.

I’d rather be dead than be seen in this hunk of junk.

Hayden smiles as she rides along. She rubs the dash. “I love this car.”

“This?” I scoff.

“Uh-huh.” She smiles broadly. “She’s so sexy.”

I look at her deadpan. “Nothing about this car makes me want to fuck something.”

“Well . . .” She giggles with a shrug. “I like it.”

I roll my lips. “Thankfully you have better taste in men.”

“This is it.” She gestures to a road. “Turn right.” I turn in to the road, and we drive up and over rolling green hills with huge big trees. It’s gorgeous.

Wow.

“Beautiful country,” I say as I look around.

“God’s country.”

I smile, impressed.

“Just don’t say anything about anything,” she says.

“Huh?”

“I haven’t told them anything about you yet. I have to find the right time.”

My eyes flick over to her. “What does that mean?”

“It means . . .” She widens her eyes as she articulates herself. “It means just don’t let on anything until I talk to them. I haven’t even told them I’m not coming home to live yet.”

My eyes widen. “You haven’t?”

“No.”

“When do you plan on doing that?”

“Today.”

My eyes flick between her and the road. “What time today?”

“Christopher,” she snaps, “I’ll tell them when I tell them. Just keep your big mouth shut until I do.”

“Fucking hell, Hayden,” I mutter. “I thought you sorted this shit all out.”

“I’m not facing the firing squad alone.”

“Firing squad?” I frown. “What does that mean?”

“This is it.” We get to the top of the hill and a large clearing. There is a main farmhouse and a scattering of small cottages around it. It looks homey and nice, straight out of a family movie. “Park in there.” She gestures to a clearing where a collection of utilities is lined up.

Hmm . . . maybe the McLaren wouldn’t have fit in among these hunks of junk.

I park the car, and I hear a screen door slam. “Hayden?” a woman yells.

“It’s me, Momma. I’m home.”

“Ah.” The elderly woman cries as she and Hayden run to each other. They hug, and the woman cries tears of joy. Hayden cries too.

Jeez . . . I try not to roll my eyes.

Dramatic.

They hug and hug and hug, and I stand to the side like an idiot.

Hello . . . I’m right here, remember?