The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(141)

I laugh. “Tell him about our reading,” I mouth.

“Oh yeah.” Eddie smiles excitedly. “Hayden and I started reading lessons. She’s teaching me.”

I hear Christopher’s voice elevate louder. He likes the sound of that.

“And we bought some pencils, and we’ve been drawing in at the beach,” he says proudly.

I smile as I listen in.

“And Hayden bought me some little-kid books.” He rolls his eyes. “About baby animals and cars and stuff.”

“Which you have already memorized,” I tell him. “We have to go back to the beginning, remember?”

They chat and chat, and damn it, my turn.

Finally, Eddie holds the phone out to me. “He wants to speak to you.”

My heart somersaults in my chest. “Hello.”

“Hi, Grumps.” His voice is deep and sexy. It instantly makes me feel warm and fuzzy. “How are you?”

Good now.

“I’m good, and you?”

“I’m okay.”

We stay on the line as if we have a million things to say . . . but are unable to say them.

“How was your day?” I ask.

“Busy. I’m trying to get as much done as I can so that I can clear my schedule when he arrives.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“I spoke to the embassy today. Looks like it will be another two weeks.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?” he asks.

“Can you fly over for a weekend to see us . . . him,” I correct myself.

Shit.

“I can’t, babe. I have to work.”

Babe.

“Of course.” I stay on the line, trying to think of something intelligent to say. “Have you been going out?” I ask nervously.

“I haven’t been out since you left.”

“You haven’t?” I whisper.

“Out has nothing I want.”

I smile. We stay on the line some more. There’s a magic swirling between us when we speak now.

Deeper than sex, more special than love. An understanding that even we don’t understand.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for me, Grumps,” he says softly. “Maybe Eddie and I could come and visit you at the farm someday?”

“I’d like that.”

My heart constricts . . . I want more than a visit.

“I should let you go,” I reply.

“No, don’t go,” he splutters before catching himself. “I mean . . . sure, okay.”

“You could call me tonight if you want?” I shrug.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, Eddie is working . . . but . . . if you wanted to talk or . . . anything.”

“I’ll call you tonight.”

I smile hopefully. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

We stay on the line, both waiting, and there’re three words missing from our goodbye.

Three words I desperately want to hear.

“Speak tonight,” he eventually says.

“Bye.” I hang up, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“What?”

“Why do you pull that face whenever you talk to him?” he asks.

“What face?”

“That gooey and gushy face.”

“I do not,” I scoff.

“Do so.”

“Eat your breakfast.” I point to his food. “We have coloring in to do.”



My phone buzzes on the side table.

Christopher

I swear I’m like a groupie now. Even seeing his name light up on my phone sends me into overdrive. “Hi,” I answer.

“Hi . . .” His voice is familiar and sexy and sends tingles up my spine. “How was my girl’s day?”

His girl.

The smile nearly splits my face in two. “It was good. Better now.”

Something’s changed, and I can’t tell you exactly what that is because I don’t want to jinx it. I only know that our late-night calls have become softer, more intimate.

We don’t talk about anything, and yet we talk about everything. Never once have we spoken about our relationship or where we stand, but the point is that we talk.

Every day.

He calls Eddie in the morning and talks to me briefly, but then he calls me late at night, and we talk for hours.

I miss us.

And I want to try again. I have so many regrets about how we ended last time. I should have stayed. I should have tried harder. I feel like the demise of our relationship was my fault, but I don’t know how to tackle the subject. I keep hoping that he’s going to bring it up, but he doesn’t. The fact that we love each other has never been the issue.

However, our demographic situation is still the same. He loves the city life; I love the country. I don’t know how to get around this. It’s a huge issue. So I’m not sure if it’s going to work.

Or if he even wants to try.

But his devotion to Eddie has set in stone what I already knew.

He’s the one.

Christopher Miles is a very special person, and I don’t know any man, let alone a playboy billionaire, who would put their hand up to adopt a homeless kid off the street. This is going to change his whole life, and he doesn’t care. He’s so selfless.