Protecting Love (LarssonSiblingSeries #3)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Betty

I stare down at the delicious monstrosity on my dad's plate, and to my simple two scoops of ice cream with an uncontrollable amount of jealousy. Dad's gone all out on our ice cream date with a large Belgium waffle, hazelnut spread, chopped strawberries, two scoops of vanilla ice cream and a hefty squirt of tin can cream.

I push my spoon into the chocolate chip in my bowl. "Trade?"

"Not a chance," he smirks, cutting into the waffle. "I don't share waffles."

I pout. "You said you were getting the same as me."

We even promised we'd get different flavours to try a bit of each.

Dad hums out loud when he starts to chew. "I asked if you wanted to change your order and you said no because it will be too sickly."

I pick up my fork and slowly start to move it towards the strawberry I spot with a dollop of cream sitting on it. "Dad isn't that Oma outside?"

"What?" he frowns throwing his head to the side to see out of the open plan window.

I steal the strawberry and shove it in my mouth mumbling, "My mistake, it's just a lady that looks very similar."

Dad starts to cut into his waffle looking more than relieved. "Don't do that to me. I made sure she went on that plane this morning."

I giggle. "You hardly saw her."

"Those few hours this morning were enough. Eat your ice cream before it melts."

I delve into the minty goodness. "We should have brought George. The boy was devouring the ice cream last night."

"Your mother is taking him to a baby yoga class. They've been going for a while. I think he likes it," he replies.

I smile. "Oh, really."

"Yeah," he stares at me with eyes identical to my brothers and smiles gently. "How long are you planning on staying?"

I shrug. "A week."

I see the pain in his eyes that he's trying hard to distinguish. "Only a week? I was hoping for more time, sweetheart."

A stab of guilt unsettles my stomach. I hate that I'm the cause of his disappointment. "I'm booked for a few appearances and meetings."

"Are they in America?" he says, clearing his choked voice.

"Yes, but a few interviews will be filmed in London at the studio. It's easier to film it all at once to clear my schedule."

Dad pushes his food around his plate. "Do you think you could free up some space for mama and I to visit? We can travel anywhere."

I smile. "You have no idea how much that would mean to me. I will always make time for family, dad."

"We don't want to impose," he lowers his head probably feeling wrong for not travelling out sooner. "It's difficult because we want you to spread your wings, but at the same time I want to wrap you up in cotton wool and never let you out of my sight."

I laugh. "I'm not a kid anymore. You'll have to let go someday."

"I don't wanna," he pulls a silly face, reminding me of a child that isn't getting its way. "You are all grown up, and it's scaring me."

"Why?" I say, licking my spoon.

"Because, that means I'm getting old," he smirks.

I shake my head. "You are in your mid-fifties. That's not old."