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Her lashes fluttered, and bright eyes shone back at me as I exhaled my relief.
“Lil, are you okay?” Angel squatted beside us, looking at his sister with concern.
She sat up and smiled at her brother. “I’m fine. Lancelot here saved me.” Her eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief once again, as if she didn’t just slam her head against the marble floor. “Go enjoy your party and your wife.”
When Angel’s lips curved upward, I almost laughed. His broody ass so seldom smiled; it was a strange sight.
I helped Lily to her feet, keeping my arm wrapped around her. Angel gave her a satisfied look, kissed her forehead, and went toward where the others were gathered. I looked at her when he was gone, not trusting she was okay. “I think you should go to the hospital,” I told her.
“Easy there, Lancelot. It’s just a little bump.”
“A bump that knocked you out for several seconds. You could have a concussion.”
“Which they can’t do a lot about. I promise I’m fine.” She pulled away from me and searched my face. “You really are a boy scout beneath those tattoos and that hair, aren’t you?”
“No. I’m a dad.”
She patted my chest with a chuckle. “Tell it to the next girl, because you looked at me with anything but a fatherly look. Unless…”
I shouldn’t have done it. There was no reason to ask, but I did anyway. “Unless?”
Her eyes twinkled with indecency. “Unless that’s your kink. Do you want to be called Daddy?”
A shudder ripped through my body. She laughed loudly, all her teeth showing as she tossed her head back at my reaction. But when she swayed again, I had her back in my arms.
I hated how good it felt to feel her pressed against me. Hated how right it felt when I knew it was wrong. “You definitely need a hospital.”
“Calm down, Lancelot. This is more the champagne than the bump. I’ll be fine. A little fresh air and I will be good as new.”
I looked down at her, fighting myself despite knowing I wouldn’t win, and then gave in. With her pulled next to me, I led us out the French doors and to the lanai. We continued down the cobblestone path around a few seating areas until we reached the split. “Pier or beach?” I asked.
She didn’t hesitate as she reached down to remove her shoes. “Beach.”
We walked for several minutes without speaking. A massive full moon hung low in the star-dusted sky, illuminating our path. My hands stayed shoved deep in my pockets in case they got any bad ideas.
Waves crashed to the shore, spraying the occasional mist as the wind ripped through us. She rubbed her bare arms as if she were cold, so I shrugged off my jacket and offered it to her. She shook her head and smiled. “I’m fine. The chill is lifting the champagne fog.”
“Or concussion,” I muttered, slipping it over her shoulders.
“So.” She stopped walking and turned toward the water. “You have a daughter. How old is she?”
“She’ll be seventeen in a few weeks.” My lips clamped shut as soon as the words passed my lips. I didn’t talk about Casey with many people. Much less people I hardly knew. Quite a few people had been in and out of my life and had no clue I had a kid.
Yet, there I stood, telling Lily about her when I hadn’t divulged her existence to my current employers. “Sh-she’s perfect. All the good parts of her mother and me. No idea how that happened since neither of us have many good parts in the first place.”
“Hmm. I can’t speak for the mother, but I see a few good parts about you.” Her eyes roved over me without shame, and I was thankful the moon was all the light available because this teenage girl just made me blush. “Where is her mother?”
A bitter sound rumbled, muffled by the night breeze, as I dropped to the damp sand. “Probably lying on silk sheets, sipping champagne, while spending her new husband’s money. Though it’s been years, so I guess he’s not new.” Then it occurred to me. “You were cozy with Lockwood’s son earlier. Maybe you’ve met Casey.” That would’ve been about right. My fucking dick wanted a girl that’s friends with my daughter. What else could go wrong in my life?
“I’ve never met any Caseys, but do I hear a hint of jealousy?”
My lips curled as I cut my eyes toward her. “Of a teenage boy? Hardly.”
She hummed as she continued to stare across the water, so I used the moment to change the subject before I made a bigger ass of myself. Or told this girl my entire life story, and she saw how pathetic I was. Thirty-two, divorced, and still jumping every time my ex-wife said frog despite all the underhanded crap she’d pulled. And every time my friends tried to argue, my only defense was that I’d loved her since I was fifteen, so they couldn’t expect me to just get over her.
“Except you’re not trying. You’re using her as an excuse not to because you’re afraid of getting hurt again.”
I dragged my hand through my hair, shoving away one of the last things my brother told me before he died, hating that he wasn’t wrong. Hating even more that he wasn’t here to give me shit over it.
