Secret Daddy (Dark Daddies 8)

“And you’ve fully embraced it?”

He hesitates and shrugs, still grinning. “Okay, got me there.”

I stare out the window as the limo slowly picks its way through traffic. I try not to look over at him, but I can’t help myself. Even just wearing a basic t-shirt and jeans, he looks absolutely gorgeous and a little intimidating.

He’s so different from all the guys I know. They’re all thin and totally vain. They’d never leave the house in an outfit like that, but I can’t imagine Graham ever thinking about his clothes for longer than it takes to put them on.

That’s just not the world I live in anymore. All I know is Instagram reality and fake smiles, but there’s nothing fake or misleading about Graham. He’s intimidating and intense and brutally honest, and as annoyed as I am about having him around, I have to admit that I respect him.

Grudgingly, at least.

We eventually reach the airport. There’s no set time, since the private plane won’t leave without us anyway and we have it all afternoon, so there’s no stress when the limo finally pulls into the terminal. We park and are escorted down the runway toward the jet, parked and ready with the captain and crew standing outside.

“Nice,” Graham comments.

I glance at him. “Ever fly private?”

He shrugs. “Sure. If you call a Blackhawk helicopter private.”

“I don’t.”

“Then, nope.”

I can’t help but smile at him. “You’re going to like it.”

He frowns at that, which surprises me. “I doubt it,” he grumbles.

I don’t have time to ask what he means, because the captain comes up to introduce himself and I’m led along by the flight attendants. Norah is there, and she updates me on how the tour’s coming together, and I’m basically swept up into my world.

Graham disappears into the background, but he’s never really invisible. Even as we head into the plane and everyone takes their seats, Graham is still very much visible, imposing and intense.

I head to the back of the plane and sit down in a corner seat, curling up and looking out a window as everyone else chatters away. I know everyone here, since they’re all part of my team, but I don’t really feel like I’m part of them. I mean, I just have to show up, do the routines, sing the songs, and that’s it. They do everything else without any real input from me.

“You look bored.”

I glance over as Graham sits down next to me.

I look back out the window.

“Not bored,” I say. “Just not needed.”

He grunts at that. “Seems to me that you’re the most important person on this plane.”

“Doubt it. They could find some other singer and slot her right in if they needed to.”

He gives me this strange sidelong expression for a moment. “You don’t see yourself too clearly, huh?”

“What?” I ask, glaring at him, but he doesn’t have a chance to response. The captain comes over the loudspeaker to announce that we’re ready to taxi, and everyone has to strap in.

“Guess we’re sitting together,” he says to me as he puts on the seatbelt.

I sigh and sit up straight, putting on mine. “Until we take off,” I say.

“What, you too good to sit next to your bodyguard?”

I roll my eyes. “No. I just don’t feel like sitting next to you, bodyguard or not.”

He laughs at that, clearly delighted, even though I meant to insult him.

The jet taxis a little jerkily toward the runway. I get that feeling in the pit of my stomach I always do before takeoff, this deep, open feeling at the bottom of me. I mean, flying in planes is absolutely insane, right? It’s a giant metal Twinkie with wings, hurtling through the air at hundreds of miles per hour, and we’re supposed to just… what? Sit there? Act like it’s totally cool?

I take deep breaths to try and steady myself as the captain says we’re ready to take off.

“You okay?” Graham asks me, noticing my distress.

“Fine,” I snap.

“You don’t like flying.” It’s not a question.

“I’m fine,” I say again and dig my fingers into the seat as the plane jerks forward.

I clench my jaw as we pick up speed, and just before the plane’s wheels leave the ground, I feel Graham’s hand cover my own.

He smiles at me. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let this plane crash.”

And for some reason, I believe him.

I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the confident smile, his hand against mine, his skin rough and callused. Or maybe it’s the way he says it, like he can’t possibly be wrong, like he’d physically throw the plane into the air if he has to. It’s an ease and a confidence and a genuine belief in himself and his abilities and for some reason, it calms me down.

As the plane noses up and I feel the air under the wings swoop us upwards, I don’t panic. I don’t freak out. Normally, everyone just ignores me as I sit in the back, jaw clenched, trying not to cry. I’m fine once the plane is in the air, so they know the drill.