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“You still have this?” I asked with a soft smile. It was a pewter teddy bear key chain I’d made him in seventh grade. At the time it hadn’t occurred to me that my grown-ass father might not want a teddy bear on his keys. So the fact that he still had it was touching.
He led me to the door leading out to his garage with Angel and Trace on our heels. When he flipped the light on, I laughed. He had not only kept my key chain, he’d kept the jacked-up Jeep I’d always begged him for when I was young.
“You said you and Trace flew out here, so you might as well take it. The only reason I still have it is because of you,” he said as he pulled me into one more hug. “Unless you want to get it another time.”
Biting my lip, I sent a questioning glance Angel’s way.
“Whatever you want to do,” he said with a gorgeous grin on his perfectly beautiful face. I squealed in excitement and hugged Angel, then my dad.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said as I stepped back.
“Anything for you,” he said with an indulgent smile.
Angel and Trace decided they’d ride together for some “man time.”
“We’ll follow you,” Angel offered, and I nodded. It was impossible for me to keep the ridiculous grin off my face.
Dad hit the garage door opener, and I climbed into the old Jeep. After adjusting the mirrors, I turned the key. He waved as I backed out. As the door closed, I stopped at the curb and turned the music up.
With my man and my son on my tail, I headed home.
Glancing at the clock, I groaned. “Shit, shit, shit.” I was going to be late to my own son’s birthday party. Traffic had been awful, and I’d had to wait for the bakery to fix his cake because they’d not only spelled his name wrong, they wrote it in damn pink.
Flashing lights in my rearview had my heart racing.
“Fuck,” I swore again. “Just fucking great.”
Hitting my hazards, I pulled over and dug out my information. Angel was going to kill me. This would be my second ticket in the past five months. And maybe the sixth time I’d been pulled over.
The dark SUV sat behind me with the lights flashing, and I wondered if the cop was ever getting out. “Ugh, just get up here and give me my damn ticket so I can go,” I muttered as my head fell back against the headrest.
As if they heard me, the door opened and the officer approached my window as I unrolled it.
“Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?” she asked me. She was dressed in plain black, but I glanced down and saw her badge clipped to her belt along with all her other police-type stuff. Her dark hair was in a severe bun, and I thought for a second that she was way too pretty to be a cop.
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” Which was the truth. Okay, maybe I knew I was going a little fast. “I’m trying to get to my son’s birthday party, and everything that could go wrong has gone wrong today. I should’ve been paying better attention.”
She asked for my information without a single quirk of humor to her lips, then returned to her vehicle.
“Sheesh. Wouldn’t hurt you to smile,” I grumbled as I watched her through my mirror.
My phone rang, and I glanced back to see if she was coming back yet. I answered it on speaker. My old Jeep didn’t have the fancy Bluetooth crap.
“Hey, babe,” I said with a sunny smile.
“Where are you? Trace is getting antsy.” Angel asked, sounding a little stressed. I could hear children squealing in the background.
“Umm, almost home. Just got sidetracked for a second.”
Silence.
“You got pulled over again, didn’t you?” he asked, and I winced.
“Well, you see—”
He sighed. “Just be careful and get here as soon as you can.”
“Okay, dear,” I replied with my shoulders sagging a little. Who knew that one old Jeep was the recipe for a lead foot?
