Chapter 8
Cannon glanced at Nahla as they pulled up to her father’s house.
He noticed that she had gotten increasingly quiet the closer they got to their destination.
She hadn’t really spoken much about her relationship with her father, but his marine and security background made him somewhat of an expert in reading body language.
Nahla was stressed, and he wanted to know why.
Just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, her phone rang.
She glanced at it and rolled her eyes.
“Another blocked number.”
Cannon hadn’t been able to trace the calls, and he was convinced they were coming from a prepaid phone. He wanted her to get a new phone number, but she insisted that this was impossible because of her job.
Once he had the car in park, she turned to him. With wide eyes that showed the same tenseness he noticed in her jawline, she asked, “Can we not tell my father that you’re my bodyguard?”
Deciding it wasn’t the time to pry, he nodded and asked, “What should we tell ’em then? That I’m your co-worker?”
She raised her brows, likely because she was surprised that he just went with it.
Shaking her head, she said, “No. My daddy hates my job, and bringing a co-worker along to his doctor’s visit won’t do anything but piss him off. What about my boyfriend?” He watched as she held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“You don’t think a boyfriend he knew nothin’ about will piss him off even more?”
Nahla chuckled then sighed. “I doubt it. My father couldn’t care less about my personal life, and he would never expect me to share details about it with him.”
Noticing a hint of sadness in her eyes when she said that, Cannon agreed quickly, not wanting her to lean into whatever was making her sad.
“I’m ya boyfriend then. Come on,” he said.
“Wait! You don’t have to go to the door with me.”
Cannon waved her off.
“You ain’t ’bout to have your pops thinkin’ I’m a shitty boyfriend who can’t even walk you to the door. Hold on.”
With that, he exited the vehicle and rounded it to open her door. He extended a hand toward her, and she accepted it with a soft smile. As she stepped out of the truck with his assistance, he wondered whether she felt something whenever they touched, or if it was just him.
Once she was out of the car, he decided to take full advantage of this boyfriend shit.
Still holding her hand, he pulled her closer as they walked to the front door of her father’s home.
Once they approached it, Nahla typed a four-digit code into the keypad on the door, it clicked, and she opened it.
As they stepped inside, Nahla called out, “Daddy! You about ready?”
They walked further into the foyer but stopped just before they made it to the living room.
“I’m ready,” they heard her father say. Moments later, he appeared in the hallway and slowly made his way to them.
Nahla’s father may have been having health issues, but you wouldn’t really know that from his outer appearance. He was a tall, lean man with low-cut, peppered gray hair on his head and chin. He was moving a little slower than average, but he was walking without any assistance.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said once he made it to them. He reached out and pulled his daughter into his side with one arm, but his eyes were on Cannon.
“Who’s this?”
“Hey, Daddy. This is um . . .” Nahla paused and inhaled. Releasing Nahla’s hand, Cannon extended his toward Nahla’s father.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Avery. I’m Cannon Porter, Nahla’s boyfriend.”
Cannon saw the surprise in Jackson Avery’s eyes as he met his hand with a surprisingly firm shake.
“Boyfriend, huh?” he asked, focusing on his daughter.
She nodded. “Yes, sir. Cannon is going to take us to today’s appointment, because my car is at the shop for maintenance.”
Her dad chuckled and said, “All right, let’s get on this road.” With that, he passed Nahla and Cannon and headed toward the front door.
Nahla turned to do the same, but Cannon stopped her by grasping her hand again.
“You good?” he asked, searching her face for the answer before she had time to lie.
“I’m fine. Let’s go,” she said softly. Her eyes were sad, and it pissed him off, probably more than it should’ve.
Every girl deserved a dad who didn’t play about them.
Before his parents died in a car accident, that was what Capri had in their father, and if Cannon ever settled down and had kids, he would be the same way.
Nahla said that her father wouldn’t make a big deal about her having a boyfriend, but it really didn’t sit right with Cannon that her father actually didn’t give a damn about who his daughter was dating. How messed up was that?
Once they all made it in the car, Cannon wasted no time pulling off.
Their drive to Lyle was mostly quiet. Nahla tried to engage her father in conversation, but he gave short answers and contributed little.
After a while, she gave up, and again, Cannon was surprised by just how much the sadness in her expression pissed him off.
He was so drawn to Nahla, it was ridiculous. He wanted to do nothing more than admire the woman sitting beside him, and every time he stole a glance at her, his heart started doing weird shit.
She really wasn’t even doing anything, just looking out the window and sipping the coffee she insisted they buy before they picked up her dad.
She was just riding and vibing, but Cannon had never been more aware of another being in his life.
Every time she did anything—crossed her legs, applied lip gloss, or checked her phone—he felt it.
He didn’t like that he felt it, because Nahla was his job, not his woman.
In all the years that he had been doing this, Nahla was the first woman who made him have to keep reminding himself of that.
“You okay?”
Damn. Even her voice was getting to him. He didn’t know what the hell to do about it either.
“Yeah, I’m straight. Why you ask?”
He glanced at Nahla as she pulled down her visor and leaned forward. He could tell that she was trying to see her father, so he looked through the rearview mirror at him too.
About halfway through the ride, he had put in his earphones. Whatever he was listening to was loud as hell, because they could hear it faintly.
Once she put her mirror back up, she looked at Cannon again. “Your face is tight. You’re squeezing the hell out of the steering wheel.”
Cannon paused then laughed. He wasn’t the only observant person in the car.
“I’m just thinkin’ ’bout shit. That’s all.”
“About Lyle?”
He glanced at Mr. Avery again.
“About keepin’ you safe in Lyle.”
She flashed that smile his way again, and he had to look away. “I’m grateful to have you with me. I know having a whole other passenger probably adds more stress on you, so thank you for being so accommodating.”
Instead of responding, he zeroed in on the road ahead of them.
He was slowly but surely realizing that it was quite literally everything about Nahla that had him feeling a way.
The way she smelled, the way she looked, the way she sounded.
Even the way she had just smiled at him was too much—too warm, too perfect, too damn inviting.
This woman had him tripping in a matter of days; he was low-key scared about how more time spent would affect him.
Cannon would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a shift the moment he stepped out of the car.
Lyle was tiny, so they stuck out in the doctor’s office parking lot like sore thumbs.
Most of the Black people in that city were older because millennials and younger people mostly moved away from Lyle at the first chance they got.
Because the parking lot was extremely full, they had to park along the road, and as he scanned the area, he couldn’t help but notice cars slowing beside them. This shit had him annoyed already.
He generally hated it when his clients had to attend high-risk events or areas, but it wasn’t new to him. The only thing new in this situation was his feelings for his client, and he was still trying to decide if they made things better or worse for the job he had to do.
He looked to his left and noticed an older Caucasian couple staring at him as he examined his surroundings. He stared at them right back until they finally looked away and hurried toward the building.
Cannon rounded the car and opened Mr. Avery’s door before opening Nahla’s and helping her out of the vehicle. Cannon perceived that Mr. Avery was a proud man who liked to feel like he was still in charge of things, so he stood back for a moment and allowed Mr. Avery to lead the way.
Once they made it inside, Cannon observed as Nahla handled her business. He was grateful for the abundance of windows in the waiting area, because if he stood on the wall to the right, he had a clear view of his truck.
Although Mr. Avery seemed indifferent at best toward his daughter, she was so tender with him.
Cannon watched the way she adjusted his jacket, steadied him when he appeared to lose his footing a little, but held the phone as he spoke to his other daughter, with whom he seemed a lot more enthusiastic to interact with than Nahla.
Cannon also noticed how sensitive she was to his mood.
Knowing that her father liked to be in charge of things, she stood back and allowed him to answer the receptionist’s questions, no matter how slow his speech became at times.
However, when he was getting irritable at the receptionist desk, she gently took over the conversation in a way that assured him he wasn’t the problem.
Although Cannon was sure he didn’t like her father even a little bit, he enjoyed seeing this side of Nahla. He liked that she was nurturing and attentive. He liked her . . . too damn much, it seemed.