Page 68 of Wrecked By You
“Partly.” He ran his hands up the outside of my thighs. “A little pleasure thrown in.”
“For how long?”
“Three days.”
I shook my head. “I can’t leave Chloe for three days. It’s not possible. And she has school on Monday. I always take her to school.”
“I don’t expect you to leave her.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You want me to bring a five-year-old child on a business-slash-pleasure trip?”
“Vegas is an adult playground, that’s true, but I’m sure we can occupy her. There’s a terrific pool at the hotel that I’m certain she’d love.”
I angled my head. “I’m not sure, Johannes. It seems pointless to come all that way only for me and Chloe to sit by the pool while you conduct your business. And like I said, she has school on Monday.”
“She’s five. Missing one day won’t damage her education.”
“What do you know about five-year-olds?” I challenged.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Well, since I behaved like one this week, quite a lot.”
I chuckled. Whatever soul-searching Johannes had done during his time away, I approved. He was almost like a different man. Both versions turned me on, but this one was a lot easier to be around.
“We could arrange childcare, or”—he tapped a finger against his lips—"even better, bring Ginny.”
“Ginny.” I broke into a smile. “She would love Vegas, I’m sure. And I bet it’s been a good long while since she had a break away.”
“Then it’s settled. Vegas, here we come.”
* * *
“Wow,” Ginny murmured in my ear as Johannes disappeared into the cockpit to talk to the pilot. “Look at this.”
“I’m looking,” I whispered back, my eyes wide as I gazed around the sumptuous interior of the Kingcaid private jet. Talk about opulence. The leather was butter-soft, the wood paneling polished to perfection, and the thick carpeting felt like walking on air. I’d flown first class commercially with Mateo, once, but this was riches on a completely different scale.
Chloe tugged on my hand, and I crouched to her level. “You okay, little bug?”
“Are we really going to fly, Mommy? Up in the air?”
“We are, baby girl.” I flicked the end of her nose, and she giggled. “Are you excited?”
“Yes!” She pulled away from me and went skipping down the aisle. I chased after her, concerned about breakages or sticky fingers ruining the expensive furnishings. I caught up to her as she disappeared through a door behind the galley. Inside was a double bed, a small nightstand and dresser, and a partially ajar door that led to a bathroom.
“Ah, I see you found the bedroom,” Johannes murmured in my ear, too quiet for Chloe to pick up on, and rested his hands on my hips. “Maybe next time.”
A fluttering set off low in my belly, and I grew heavy between my legs. I was about to turn around when Chloe threw herself onto the bed.
“Chloe, no.” I made a grab for her, lifting her into my arms. “That’s naughty.”
“It’s fine,” Johannes said, running a fingertip up my bare arm. “Diving onto beds is fun. Right, Chloe?”
“Yes!” she announced, wriggling for me to put her down. The moment I did, she repeated what I’d just scolded her for.
Little Miss Mischief.
I was about to reprimand her again when Johannes flung himself onto the bed right next to her. The two of them promptly burst into laughter. My heart clenched. Mateo hadn’t ever played with Chloe. He was the one who’d insisted we start a family right away, and then when she’d been born, he’d shown hardly any interest in her whatsoever. Unless it suited his purposes, and then he was Father of the Year.
At the time, I didn’t pick up on it, too enamored with this vastly more experienced man who appeared in control of everything, but in time, it irked me that he wouldn’t bathe her or play with her or read to her at night, leaving a hundred percent of the child-rearing to me. When Chloe was two, he’d broached the subject of us having another baby. I’d told him we’d discuss it when he took a real interest in the one we already had.