Page 34 of At First Flight (Coral Bell Cove #1)

Two Days Later

The hotel room in the Knoxville Lodge owned by my best friend, Talon, is quiet in the way that luxurious, expensive places always are. Too quiet. Thick curtains covering the windows, walls meant to keep the world out. The most perfect, polished silence anyone could ask for.

And I loathe it.

I’m sitting against the upholstered headboard, the rustic lamp casting a pool of light across the folders I left resting on the nightstand.

Notes I’ve read over three times and still can’t recall what they’re about.

None of it is sticking. I keep eyeing the same sentence, rereading it and hoping it may click.

I’d left Coral Bell Cove in a hurry when Talon’s wife went into labor.

His voice rattled through the phone, full of worry, asking for my help.

Talon was estranged from his family, so he didn’t have anyone to turn to.

He needed me there. So I drove straight here, eight hours of silence, my thoughts clouded with memories of my own life, of the kids, and Lila.

By the time I arrived, their daughter was just being born.

I stood in the hallway of the hospital, the sound of her first cries echoing through the building, her tiny voice piercing the air like a beautiful melody.

An overwhelming feeling swelled within me, but it wasn’t just for Talon or the baby.

No, it was because of something I hadn’t fully realized yet.

I missed Oliver and Evelyn, God, I missed them, but more than that, I missed Lila.

I missed her presence in my life in a way that made everything else feel incomplete.

I had a flash as I stood there, looking at the new family formed in front of me.

An image so clear and sudden that I froze.

It was of Lila in that same hospital room, giving birth to our child.

A son or a daughter, I didn’t know which, but the vision felt so right, so undeniable.

The idea of Lila holding our child in her arms didn’t scare me in the least. It wasn’t even just the physical act of it—no, it was the future that flashed before me.

A future with her. A family. Something that suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world.

I caught myself standing there, still as stone, my chest tightening with emotions I hadn’t been prepared for.

I hadn’t let myself think about it, about what we might be, what we could be.

But now, with the cries of a newborn in the background, I realized that I wanted it.

I wanted to build something real. Something lasting. Something with her.

My mind pulled back to the present, but the weight of that thought clung to me, pressing deep into my chest. As I held the baby in my arms later that night, looking down at her tiny face, something shifted inside me.

This wasn’t just about Oliver and Evelyn anymore.

It wasn’t just about being a father figure to them.

It was about Lila.

She was the one I could imagine waking up next to every day. She was the one I could picture sharing all of this with. And the thought of it filled me with a calm certainty, like I’d been waiting for this moment my entire life.

It wasn’t just a passing thought or a fleeting daydream. It was real. And when I thought about it, I knew without a doubt that I wanted that life with her. One day.

I could see it now, the life we’d build, the home we’d create, and yes, the family we’d have together. And that scared me. It scared me because it felt so right. But even more, it excited me in a way I didn’t expect.

So as I held that baby in my arms, I made a promise to myself, to Lila, to the future that was slowly but surely becoming our own. I would protect her, care for her, and show her that this life, with me, could be everything she ever wanted.

And if she ever needed more time to see that, I’d give it to her. But I would wait for her because this was worth waiting for.

My phone sits beside me on the bed. Dark and unmoving. Taunting me.

It’s not that I don’t want to be here for my friend. I just don’t want to be here. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have left in the first place.

There is no way I could have expected that leaving the three people who have come to mean the most to me would be this hard. Before them, I would go anywhere at the drop of a hat. Like, say, Connecticut to find my lost sister. But now? Now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Yet here I am, wallowing in my misery alone in a hotel room. Talk about a change of pace for me.

Hesitantly, as if it were a snake ready to bite, I pick up the phone and stare at her name in the contacts. The name “Ghost Girl” shines brightly back at me from where I’d named it, like I needed to convince myself she was nothing more than a casual encounter.

She isn’t.

I tap the screen, then quickly back out, blacking the screen again.

With a plop, I drop the phone back onto the bed and run a hand across my face.

I’d never called her before. Nerves like that of a teenage boy rattle me to my bones.

When I left two days ago in the early morning light, she’d come down into the kitchen to figure out what all the racket was.

In a flourish, I headed to my car, but not before I told her I’d call to check in.

I want to, even if for the kid’s sake. But another part of me hesitates.

Lila’s skittish. Guarded. I recognize the sense of self-protection because I’d worn it myself. I don’t want to push or turn into another weight on her shoulders.

But, God, I miss her.

Her voice. The way she challenges me in her sharp, bright, witty way without even trying. The way she smiles whenever she gets a jab in toward me. The quiet strength she carries like a shield.

I miss being with her in my house…with my kids. I miss the insane way she always knows what everyone needs. Hell, I even miss the way she scrunches her nose when she’s concentrating.

With a glance at the clock that reads 9:45 p.m. I pick up the phone again and hover over her contact information.

Fuck it.

I type something and hit send before I can talk myself out of it.

Dean:

Hey. Don’t want to interrupt your night. Just wanted to see what you were up to.

A minute passes. Then two.

I murmur under my breath how stupid I was being as I rake my hand through my hair. She’s had to watch the kids all day and work on that stupid grant that I’ve been trying to convince her to let me fund.

Ghost Girl:

Hi, Dean. You’re not interrupting anything. I could use a brain break.

The pulling in my chest unravels.

Dean:

I love this lodge, but I miss home already.

I hope she catches onto my underlying meaning—that it’s her I’m missing.

Ghost Girl:

We wish you were home too. It’s been quiet, like the kind where it makes you wonder if something is missing…or a child is silently destroying something.

Dean:

Were they?

Ghost Girl:

I can confirm it was not the latter.

Annoyed by her contact name, I quickly go in and edit to her real name.

Dean:

I left you a note, did you find it?

Lila:

I did and read it twice.

I should probably be embarrassed that I told you that, huh?

I smile, knowing that the letter consisted of nothing more than a few sentences, telling her how amazing she was. Overstepping the boss bounds, definitely, but knowing that she needed to hear from someone not family that she’s incredible is worth every inch.

Lila:

Did you mean it?

Dean:

Of course. You know I never say (or write) anything I don’t mean.

Lila:

Thank you.

Dean:

You’re welcome. And I hope you realize I wasn’t just referring to your job. I mean you as a person. You’re incredible.

Three dots light up on the screen, dissipate, then reveal themselves again. My palms start sweating, nearly dropping the phone onto my lap.

Lila:

You’re so honest. And kind. And I haven’t had a lot of that these past couple of years.

Dean:

I meant every word.

How are the kids?

Lila:

image

I stare at the two cherubic faces squished up against Lila’s hips on her bed, both of their stuffies wedged beneath their arms.

They miss you too. Evelyn woke up asking for her mom.

Fuck, that’s my worst nightmare when I’m away, that she’ll think I left them the same way their mom had.

Dean:

image

I went and saw Scarlett today. They get to go home tomorrow.

Lila:

She’s beautiful. Mom still doing okay?

Dean:

Rory is one of the strongest women I know. Especially because she willingly puts up with Talon’s grumpy ass.

Lila:

Haha, I know someone similar. I want

The conversation pauses, and I wonder if she’s settling farther into the sheets.

Sorry. I wanted to know if you would take the kids to a birthday party this weekend. You said you’d be back?

Dean:

Of course. You deserve a day off. I’ll be back by tomorrow.

Lila:

Everyone will be happy to see you.

Dean:

Does that “everyone” include a gorgeous blonde who ran through an airport in a wedding dress?

I laugh under my breath. The knot I hadn’t realized was tangled in my chest eases a bit.

Lila:

I’ll let you decide.

Saucy little minx.

Dean:

I’ll let you get some sleep. I just needed to hear from you.

Lila:

I’m glad you messaged.

Sleep well.

I set the phone down beside me, my mood levels better than it had been before I reached out.

The following day, I’m on the road before dawn breaks. I messaged a quick farewell to my friend and his new family, knowing that my baby gift would arrive around the same time they make it home. Because a baby can’t do without a trust fund set up in their name, courtesy of their godfather.

One good thing about leaving before most people is I miss the stares and whispers. Despite it happening weeks ago, rumors still swirl around that damn magazine article naming me the World’s Sexiest Billionaire Heir .