Page 53 of Blind Trust
She opened her eyes. “Mm-hmm—what?”
“Well, he certainly knew how to play the part.”
“What do you mean?” Lyla straightened. “Did you see how uncomfortable he was?”
“What I saw was a man who looks at you the way Daddy looks at me. I didn’t see discomfort, I saw longing.”
The last thing Lyla needed was her mom to lean into the imaginations of a romance that didn’t exist between her and Nicolás the way Elinor and Brynn did. “Mom—”
“Lyla Anne,” her mom said. “I am not Elizabeth Davenport. I have never pushed you into a relationship or voiced my opinion about your dating life—and believe me, you have dated some realwinners.”
Her lips pressed into a smile to suppress her laugh. “I dated half the guys just to annoy you and Dad.”
“We know.” Her mom laughed. “But of all the guys you’ve talked about, none of them light your eyes the way Nic does. And from the way his eyes sparkled around you, I’d say that young man has a case of the va-va-vooms.”
An uninvited tickle started in Lyla’s middle. She pressed a hand to her stomach, but it didn’t stop her mind from going to the single memory from the day before that stuck with her more than the chaos of the shooting. When Nicolás walked up after he arrived, the way he looked at her, there was something about it that made her feel more than beautiful—it filled her with confidence.
“Honey?”
“Oh, hey. Yeah, still here. I’m just...”
“Daydreaming about a handsome Spaniard?”
“Okay. Well, now you sound just like Mrs. Davenport,” Lyla teased, but her cheeks were burning at her mother’s intuition. She rose from the bed and grabbed her jacket, avoiding the question. “I need to get ready to go. Please give Etta a big hug for me. Dad and Tully too. And promise me you’ll call if anything changes with Etta.”
“I will, honey. Stay safe.”
Lyla headed downstairs, pausing outside Brynn and Jack’s kitchen to let her cheeks cool. Her mom was right, she was not like Mrs. Davenport pushing a relationship. But her comment about Nicolás and the va-va-vooms was making her dizzier than her fall from Sir Winston. Heat flooded her cheeks again. What in the world had her mom done to her? If she thought facing Mrs. Davenport was awkward, spending the day working with Nicolás while her mom’s words about the va-va-vooms danced in her head was going to be more awkward than the bangs she gave herself in the seventh grade.
Because it isn’t true ... right?Her mom was confusing Nicolás’s agitated concern with her for taking off toward the shooting with romantic concern. Two very different feelings.
When Lyla finally walked into the kitchen, Brynn looked over from where she was pouring a cup of coffee into a to-go mug. “See, now you walk in looking like one of Charlie’s Angels. That jacket makes me want to rethink my decision not to work for SNAP.” Her gaze drifted down to Lyla’s shoes, and she squeaked. “Tennisshoes? That’s it. I’m putting in my notice first thing tomorrow morning.”
Lyla glanced down at her high-waisted jeans, graphic tee, and leather jacket. Her Vans were a comfort choice more than anything else, but compared to the low, chunky heels that seemed to be the dress code for women in the intelligence fieldandlooked like the kind she’d find in Etta’s closet—she understood Brynn’s discontentment.
“Babe, the CIA needs you.” Jack walked in behind Lyla and over to Brynn and kissed her temple. “And SNAP needs you in the CIA. You’re our in.”
Brynn handed Jack his coffee. “One of many, I’m sure.”
Jack set the coffee on the counter and reached for Brynn’s waist and pulled her toward him. “The only one who makes my heart sing.”
Brynn squished Jack’s cheeks, pushing his lips into a fishy face, and kissed him. “That’s my man.”
Lyla wrinkled her nose at the silly affection.Va-va-vooms. She didn’t know if her mom was right about Nicolás’s feelings, but her comments had certainly stirred something inside that made her curious—and had her heart thumping a little harder against her ribs.Thanks, Mom.
Jack reached for his coffee and his keys, eyes meeting Lyla’s. He paused like he had forgotten she was standing there witnessing the strangest yet most endearing display of affection.Had my thoughts not been back on Nicolás. He cleared his throat. “Uh, so Garcia’s picking you up?”
“Yeah, we’re going to the hospital to talk with Tiffany Miller and then heading to the office. You?”
“Walsh wants me to join him for a meeting with the DOJ.”
Through the kitchen window, Lyla saw Nicolás pull into the driveway. She grabbed her purse, and Brynn held out a to-go mug for her. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Brynn tugged her robe tighter when Jack opened the door. “Go, be safe, and save the world.”
Lyla lifted her mug of coffee in a salute to Brynn’s departing instructions, then quickly walked past Jack when he went in for another kiss.Goodness. She rolled her eyes but secretly adored the affection between them.
Nicolás exited his truck and met her at the front, bringing with him the soft scent of pine and sandalwood. The smell perfectly matched the man wearing worn jeans, faded flannel, and a wool-collared jacket—and it made her feel swooshy inside. Was that a thing? Swooshy? Because there was no other way to describe it. And even though this wasn’t the first time Lyla recognized the rugged style that enhanced Nicolás’s good looks, she blamed Jack and Brynn for putting her in a mood she suddenly identified with the wordswooshy. Her mom too.
