Page 3 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
He chuckles. “On ice, Peyton. Not in an airport.”
“How is that any better?”
I almost get a smile out of him. Almost.
“Just... be careful.”
“I’m always careful. Besides, what’s going to happen in an airpo—yowl!”
He abandons the suitcases, catching me before I go down.
Again.
See? Hero complex.
“Sorry, miss.” The teenage boy from earlier says, his eyes on Daltyn. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Clearly,” Daltyn says icily, glaring at the kid.
“Ouch.” I wince, rubbing my sore ankle.
“Let me see.” Daltyn’s head is bent, already looking at my ankle that’s beginning to swell. His fingers unbuckle the strap before I can protest.
“I’m really sorry,” the teenager says.
Daltyn gives him a look that could freeze hell. “You’re going to follow us with our luggage while I carry her.”
He says it like there’s no universe where I won’t be carried.
“What?” The boy and I say in unison.
Daltyn glares at him. “You heard me.”
The boy jumps into motion, gathering our luggage while Daltyn scoops me up in his arms like I weigh nothing, my shoe dangling from his hand.
“This is unnecessary,” I protest as he steps through the automatic doors. “Really.”
“You’re hurt,” he says.
“I’m not broken. I can walk.”
He ignores me, striding into the sunshine like a superhero saving the day.
I glance over his shoulder at the boy struggling with our luggage, trying to keep up. “You’re tormenting that poor boy.”
Daltyn grunts. “He deserves it. He hurt you.”
“I’m fine. I’m not made of glass. I’ve been through much worse.”
“I know. But you also deserve a break.” He grins at me, and the air leaves my lungs. “I’m the break life’s finally giving you.” He winks, then turns his head, navigating through traffic with me in his arms like I weighnothing.
He winked.
Freaking winked at me.
Thank goodness he’s carrying me, or I might be on my ass right now. No way are my legs strong enough to survive that.
It isn’t until he sets me on the passenger seat in his Cadillac Escalade and leans over me, clicking my seat belt into place, that my brain registers the warning again.
