Chapter 41
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
CHANCE
I book first class tickets for me and April and it feels amazing to treat her to this luxury. Plus, it’s cute the way she fumbles around with the hot towel the airline attendant delivers to us.
“What am I supposed to do with it?” she whispers to me.
“Put it on your face like this.” I demonstrate.
April places the towel on her face and yanks it off immediately. “It burns.”
I stifle my laughter.
Streaks of red course over April’s cheeks and she swats at me. “Don’t laugh. I told you it would have been better if I drove.”
“You’d be exhausted driving all the way. And I know you didn’t want to close your shop early or leave Rebel to do all the repair work alone.”
Her mouth opens and then slams shut. She can’t argue with the truth.
Throughout the flight, April continues grumbling about the plane’s amenities. I grin hard each time she discovers something new—like the fact that the wine is complimentary or that the seats can recline.
“I don’t think you should have shown me first class,” April says later, as we breeze past the crowds waiting in the general line. “Way to set the bar too high, McLanely.”
I chuckle at her scrunched nose and angry expression. My ultimate goal in life is to spoil April Brooks, and I’m just getting started.
April stuffs the complimentary blanket, slippers, and water into her backpack as she says, “The next time I fly, I’ll be in economy and it’ll be even worse because now I’ll know how first class flying feels.”
I maneuver the suitcases with one hand and capture hers with the other. “Stick with me, and you’ll always fly in comfort, Brooks.”
“Sounds like you’re bribing me to date you,” she says.
“Hey, whatever works.”
“I’m not with you for your money, Chance.”
Her tone is so fierce that I squeeze her hand. As I’m about to assure her that I was just joking, a teenager dressed in a loose shirt and khakis rushes up to me.
“Hey, Chance. I’m a big fan. Do you mind if I take a picture?”
I shoot April a worried look. She’d been concerned about being photographed and I’d assured her that I was rarely approached in the airport. In such a crowded space with people constantly on the move, everyone tends to mind their own business.
I take a step back. “I’d love to, but my girlfriend and I just got off a flight…”
A soft touch on my hand stops me. April juts her chin subtly forward, giving her consent.
We take the picture and I reach for April’s hand again when another group comes up to me. What was a two-minute request from one fan, turns into a two-hour stream of photo-taking for me.
By the time the crowd dissipates and I come up for air, I’ve lost track of April.
I swivel around frantically until I locate her a few feet away.
She’s sitting in one of the waiting chairs. The giant, floor-to-ceiling windows pour buckets of sunshine over her, giving her hair a golden halo. She purses her lips in concentration while reading. Slender fingers slide between the pages of the book I’d purchased for her at the bookstore.
I lift my phone and snap a picture. As if she heard the silent click, April’s head whips up and she takes me in. Her green eyes soften.
“You coming or going?” I ask.
“Huh?”
I take the seat beside her, wedging my large arms against hers. “If we’re heading in the same direction, I’d love to take you to dinner.”
Clarity flashes through her emerald-green gaze and she prissily turns her nose up. “I have a boyfriend.”
“Man.” I sigh in defeat. “Lucky guy.”
April laughs and it’s so pretty that I snap another photo.
She tugs the sleeve of my T-shirt in an effort to claim my phone. “Delete that. I look awful.”
“You look like sunshine.” I turn and show her the photo of her laughing face. “No matter how harsh winter gets, I can look at this picture and it’ll take me to a warm summer day.”
She ducks her head into my shirt and groans. “Don’t tell me you write poetry too.”
“I don’t, but I might start now.” I rub a hand down her hair. “I’ve found my muse.”
April looks up, but her pale fingers are still entwined in the collar of my outer shirt. “You’re such a flirt.”
“Only with you, Tink.”
Her eyes scan beyond me. “Is anyone looking at us like they want to secretly come over and ask for a picture?”
“No.” I check the airport waiting area. “I don’t know what happened today. People usually don’t recognize me at?—”
April leans into me, covers my mouth with hers and gives me the longest, sweetest kiss she can manage. It comes to an end only when she runs out of breath and I’m seeing black spots in front of my eyes.
“Sorry.” Her face a fire-red, April hides against my chest again.
I sigh happily and nuzzle my cheek against her hair. “Don’t apologize. I’d be happy to pass out like this any day.”
“Pass out?” April groans. “It was pretty long, wasn’t it?”
“You can kiss me as long as you like, Tink. I’ll go around with smelling salts in my pocket the way my old aunt Edna used to.”
She bursts out laughing and shakes her head, raining cute punches at my chest. “I just can’t with you, Chance McLanely.”
I capture her hand and kiss the back of it.
Just then, my phone rings.
“It’s my dad,” I announce.
Immediately, April turns as white as a sheet and leans away from me.
I allow her to have her space and answer, “Hey, dad.”
“Traffic was absolutely brutal, but we’ve arrived.” Dad’s cultured voice rings with anticipation. “Which gate was it again, son?”
“He’s here,” I whisper to April.
She stands and shuts her book, worrying her bottom lip.
I stand too. “Dad, I told you that you didn’t have to drive. You could have sent the chauffeur.”
Beside me, I sense April stiffen.
“Your mother had need of the driver today,” dad explains. “And I wanted to be there.” The sound of a horn honking rings behind him. “You still haven’t told me a gate number.”
I look for signs, trying not to run anyone over with my suitcase while moving forward. After giving dad the information, I escort April through the exits just as a shiny car glides to a stop in front of us.
April gasps loudly. “Is that a vintage Impala with a 283 Tri-Power V8 engine?”
“A 230… what?” I mutter, stumbling behind her.
“A lady who knows her stuff.” Dad smiles. “You must be April. Nice to meet you. I’m Randal.”
“Hi.” April shakes his hand, eyes glued to the car.
“Have you worked on a tri-power engine?”
“Worked on? Yeah, but not in a beauty like this. I’ve only seen vintage Impalas in public auction videos. I never thought I’d be able to ride one in real life.”
Dad preens so hard, if he were a peacock, all his feathers would be ruffling.
April walks around the car, her hand hovering over the paint but not actually touching it. “What a dream. Look at the grill and the tail fins are more subtle than the later 80’s models. It’s got to be a what? ’60?”
“It’s a ’65. Most people don’t recognize it right away because the design is so understated, but that’s exactly why I like it. Now, if you pop the hood, you’ll see the original husk, painstakingly remodeled by the best customization garage in the US. And if you walk this way…”
I clear my throat. “Hello? Dad? It’s me. Your son. ”
Dad whirls around in shock. “Oh yes. Chance, welcome back!” He hurries back to the sidewalk and gives me a hug.
I peer down at dad’s salt-and-pepper hair, smelling a rat. “You offered to pick me up so you could show up in the Impala, didn’t you?”
“It’s rare to meet a like-minded individual with good taste in automobiles. Leave me alone,” he whispers.
I shake my head and lug the suitcases into the trunk myself.
Dad and April spend so long admiring and discussing the car that an airport traffic officer threatens dad with a ticket if he doesn’t get moving.
On the freeway, the two continue chatting excitedly. I can’t even get a word in. It continues all the way through lunch on the rooftop of a five-star hotel and when dad invites April over to view the rest of his fleet.
My sister is at the house when we arrive, and I’m relieved to see her—if only to remind myself that not everyone in the world speaks in horsepower and car lingo.
Dad quickly makes the introductions but leaves no time for my sister to edge in and take April from him.
“This way, April,” dad urges, leading her down to our third garage where we keep the ‘just for Sunday drives’ vehicles. The two soon disappear, their conversation overlapping in a noisy clamor.
I patter to the kitchen, smiling.
My sister is there, wearing a fancy red dress.
“Your girlfriend’s been kidnaped,” she says dryly, pouring herself a glass of wine.
I shake my head when she offers to pour one for me. “Did you see how April skipped behind him? She’s a willing participant.”
My sister sips and then looks at me thoughtfully. “She’s cute. A little rough around the edges but more sincere than any girl you’ve been photographed with.”
“What do you mean by rough around the edges?”
“You know…” she lifts her fingers.
“I really don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think about her. What do you think about her?”
I don’t hesitate to share because talking about April is my second favorite thing. Talking to and holding April is my number one—of course. “She’s amazing. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Sometimes, I look at her and she’s looking back at me with those eyes, and I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
“Ew. Gross. I’ve never seen you so in love.”
“Get used to it, sissy. April’s not going anywhere.”
She peers at me over the rim of her glass. “Did you really mean all those things you said in the press conference?”
“I did.”
“Does she feel the same?”
I pause. “April’s not someone who makes hasty decisions. We’re both taking this seriously.”
My sister snorts. “So she’s not as crazy about you as you are about her.”
“I’m working on getting her there.”
“Mom won’t help your cause. She doesn’t like any of this.”
“I know.”
“She’s decided to pretend that you didn’t say what you said. That’s why she’s not here right now.”
“I know that too.”
My sister stares at me. “What else do you know?”
“I know she’ll have her claws out at the gala tonight.”
“And did you prepare April for that?”
I wish I could, but I have no clue how. “You know… I think I will have a glass,” I say instead.
My sister pours one out for me and lifts her cup. “I wish you luck, brother.”
I clink our glasses together, knowing I’ll need much more than luck when facing my mother tonight.