Page 66 of We Were Once


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I reach for the suitcase, but it’s gone, already being loaded in the back of a shiny black car parked at the curb. The driver is dressed in a suit topped with a hat. So this is how the other half live?

I pull out my wallet, but he holds up his hands. “Thank you, but no tip is needed, sir.”

“Really?”

He chuckles. “Really.”

I shake his hand just as Chloe calls from the back of the car, “Come on, Joshua.” Returning to the open door, I dip inside, sitting next to Chloe. Even in the shadows of the tinted windows, she shines—gorgeous in her happiness.

“I’ve never been picked up from the airport before.” I rub the soft leather of the seat. “I can get used to this.”

That makes her laugh, the sound music to my ears. We talked every day, multiple times a day during the Thanksgiving break, but nothing replaces being with her.

She slides across the seat, practically climbing onto my lap. Her arms looped around my neck as she gazes into my eyes. The shine in her eyes reflects the love in mine. “Did you have a good flight?”

“I did. Thanks for the ticket.” A part of me feels embarrassed she had to buy it. The other part just wants to be with her, and if that means she buys me an airline ticket, then I’ll take it. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re here for me. That’s the best birthday present I can ask for.”

“How’s the family?”

“Thanksgiving was interesting. My parents still wanted to be together for me, and as you know, my mom has never cooked a turkey before. We sent a gift basket to your mom. She was a lifesaver and so sweet to walk us through the recipe.” She laughs to herself.

“I heard it turned out great.”

“It was so good. My dad didn’t give her any credit, but that’s typical. You would have been proud of me for helping. It was actually kind of fun.” Gazing into my eyes, she says, “I bet your meal was amazing.”

“The diner is always packed on Thanksgiving, but everything turned out. Nothing like a home cooked meal to serve everyone.”

“How’s your mom?”

“All caught up in the professor.”

Kissing my jaw, she whispers, “I understand the feeling.”

I tighten my hold around her waist and kiss her—deep—memorizing the shape of her mouth and the feel of her lips, which I so foolishly didn’t do before she left. She’s breathless as the tips of her fingers touch my lips. “You did miss me.”

“I did. Let’s not do that again.”

“Kiss?” she asks, surprise widening her eyes.

“No. Be apart.”

Resting her head on my shoulder, she takes my hand in hers, our tattoos pressing together when we fold our fingers together. “Never.”

Chloe lies back, dragging me with her by the front of the shirt. “What are you doing, sexy girl?”

Her hair is splayed across the leather, the hem of her skirt riding up her thighs to expose that skin I love to kiss. I was hard from the sight of her, but fuck, she’s going to drive me wild. Running her fingers under my jaw, she replies, “Showing you how much I missed you.”

Her lips are only pressed to mine for a second when I pull back just enough to glance at the driver in the front seat. “With an audience?”

“Don’t worry about Kenneth. He’s paid for his discretion.”

Discretion is such a dirty word. He’s paid to keep quiet?

It’s hard to care about him when this gorgeous creature is kissing me not so discreetly. Fuck it. I’m not letting anyone keep me from reconnecting with my girl. Not this guy and not her father.

Pressing my hands to the seat on either side of her head, I kiss her how I would if we were home on the couch, appreciating the curves of her lips molding to mine and the way her hands grope under my shirt like she has no self-control. We’re both guilty.

“It’s been too long since I’ve been inside you,” I whisper, dipping down to her neck and restraining the urge I have to mark her for everyone to see. Especially the guy in the front seat who seems to be giving us privacy like she said.

I’m so caught up in her, losing track of the miles traveled and time passed. A week is too long not to feel her moving under me, like she is now, her body begging for mine. While I’m memorizing the inside of her mouth, tracing the lines, I hear a throat clear, and the car suddenly comes to an abrupt stop.

The door is opened before I can get up.

“Daddy!” Chloe scrambles to sit as I grab her hand to pull her upright with me. We move quickly, but it’s too late to undo the damage.

Fuck.

“Get out of the car, Chloe,” he says, his voice stern and glare unbending from me.

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