Page 75 of Mercy
There’s something hidden in her words as if we have some kind of fucking expiration date. And that I cannot even begin to deal with. My heart pounds painfully as I try to decode her words, but I come up empty.
* * *
I had trouble sleeping all night long, replaying her words repeatedly in my mind. Climbing out of bed, I gaze at her, and sigh. Maybe I’m reading too much into what she said last night. After I get ready for this weekend, I walk up to sleeping beauty and kiss her neck.
“It’s time to wake up, baby girl,” I say softly.
She stretches, it’s the sexiest thing, as she arches her back, her breasts peeking out of the sheets.
I’m greeted with a sweet smile,“Go take a shower, I’ll make coffee.”
Walking to the kitchen, I can’t stifle the grin on my face. I’m excited to give her an amazing weekend. I scoop the coffee into the filter and take our mugs out while it brews.
I pour our coffee and place the mugs on the counter, after putting just the right amount of hazelnut cream in hers, just as she likes it.
She comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. I turn to her and smile. You look beautiful.”
There’s a gleam in her eyes that settles my nerves about last night's conversation. My girl always looks beautiful, but today even more so. She’s wearing a short black skirt with a light blue sweater with a V cut, showing off her perfect cleavage. There’s no make-up on her face, which is exactly how I prefer it. I’ll never tell her, but I hate it when she covers up her flawless skin with that fake crap.
I hand her mug to her, “Thank you, baby.”
Arching an eyebrow at her I say, “Baby?”
“Sorry,” she says with a sad expression.
“Don’t be. I think I like it,” I sip the last of my coffee, we rinse out our mugs, and put them in the sink. Turning to her, I pull her into my arms, “Happy birthday, baby girl.”
She smiles, “Thank you, Daddy.”
Kissing her quickly on the lips I say, “Let’s go.”
I walk into the bedroom, grab our overnight bag, and go to the car. I put the bag in the back of my vehicle before getting in.
As I pull out of the garage, she asks, “You’re really not going to tell me where we are going?”
“Well, that wouldn’t make for a very good surprise, now would it?”
I slide my sunglasses on as I grin at her.
I’m listening to 80’s music when my girl gets brave. She turns my radio station to country.
“Excuse me?”
She laughs, “I don’t want to listen to that old shit.”
“Are you calling me old, baby girl?”
Shrugging, she says, “Well, I called your music old. But if the shoe fits…”
“I may be old, but my hand is still very capable of spanking your sassy ass.”
Her lips form an ‘O’, “Should I pretend I don’t like it?” She smiles as I arch an eyebrow at her and turn it back to my station.
We’re about an hour into our drive, and she yells, “Oh my God! Are we going to New York?”
I smile at her, “Maybe.”
“Cheyanne Cash is performing there tonight! Oh my God, Liam are we…?”
