Page 42 of A Package Deal

I grinned back, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll figure it out eventually. Good night, Em.”

And then I left, closing the door softly and making my way to my room. I tossed and turned, unable to go to sleep when I had an erection that wouldn’t go down. I had to take things into my own hands, Em’s name on my lips as I came. Sleep finally claimed me.

Me: Picking up Georgia from school early to run some errands. We’ll be back in time to fix you a proper dinner and another bath. Hope you have a great day, wife.

I whistled as I climbed into my truck and headed for the preschool in downtown Blueball. Em had blushed every single time we ran into each other in the house this morning. Even Pip had noticed when she arrived, glancing between Em and me several times before giving me an enthusiastic thumbs up. I wasn’t sure what Pip thought was happening between us, but I appreciated the encouragement. Bessie still wouldn’t let me anywhere close to milking her, but at least Cleveland didn’t headbutt me while I fed the animals this morning. Overall, it was a damn good day and it was about to be even better.

I’d made a few decisions last night as I lay there wide awake and wholly unsatisfied. I was going to woo my wife. And Georgia. I’d show them how they deserved to be treated and maybe, just maybe, Em would see that my feelings for her were very real. A part of me wanted to be cautious about giving them too much of myself. It was most certainly the part of me that had been burned by all those women, but I also knew Em and Georgia were different. They’d never taken advantage of me. Hell, it was a fight every time I tried to give Em anything.

Rosemary, the principal at the elementary school, gave me a cheery wave as I signed Georgia out in the office before heading for the classroom. Georgia’s face had been lined with shock when the teacher called for her and she’d twisted around to see me at the door with a bouquet of flowers in my hands. Then she broke out into a run to get to me, arms hugging my legs and face split in a smile.

“Why you here, Wa-wy?” she asked up at me as her teacher retrieved her backpack for me.

I patted her on the back, just as excited as her. I handed her the flowers and she buried her face in them. “Have you ever gone fishing, Peaches?”

She lifted her head, nose wrinkling. “Fishing?”

I nodded sagely. “All important people are duty bound to teach their important people to fish. It’s a life lesson I won’t let you miss out on.”

Her teacher handed me her backpack. “Have a good afternoon, Georgia.” She winked. “My daddy taught me how to fish around your age too.”

Georgia squealed her excitement and nearly dragged me out of the school. She was fast for a girl with short legs. She chatted about school and friends the whole way back to the house. We didn’t pull into the driveway though. Instead, I drove us around to the back of the property where the pond was, my tires bouncing over the hills and divots in the land. My brothers and I had spent many a lazy summer morning fishing in this exact spot. We’d even built a ramshackle tree house in one of the old trees from scraps of wood. I’d have to see if it was still safe enough for us to climb up.

When Georgia assured me she loved worms, I gave her the task of using the garden trowel in a moist patch of weeds and wildflowers to dig up the creepy-crawlies while I got our fishing rods out of the back of the truck. I laid out a blanket in the shade of an oak tree and called her over. She had five worms squiggling around in the palm of her hand.

“You’re a natural angler, Peaches!”

“Amgbler?” she asked, squealing again when one of the worms wiggled right off her palm and dropped onto the blanket. I picked it up and put it on the hook. Her look of horror had me biting back a laugh.

“Wait ’til you catch your first fish. You’ll be hooked.”

The joke flew right over her head, but she dropped the other worms and sat next to me, letting me show her how to work the reel. I demonstrated what the line would feel like if a fish was nibbling. Then I got my own line cast and settled in next to her.

She looked at the lines, then at me. She looked so tiny with the long pole in her hands. Had my brothers and I been that small? “So now what?”

I shrugged. “We wait.”

She thought about that for a few seconds. “Know any jokes?”

I wracked my brain and came up with only one that was appropriate for a five-year-old. “What do you use to count cows?”

Georgia wrinkled her nose and grinned at the same time, making me laugh even without the punch line. “I don’t know!”

“A cowculator.”

She started giggling, but sobered quickly. “Whatya call a bear with no teeth?”

“A nonthreat?” I mumbled, knowing that couldn’t be the right answer.

“No! A gummy bear!”

I threw my head back and laughed, wondering when I’d had a better time. We kept going, telling each other corny jokes, some of which she got and some she didn’t, but I lived for that innocent giggle.

“Why did the man fall down the well?” I asked.

“He was clumsy!” Georgia shrieked, probably scaring all the fish away.

“No! He couldn’t see that well.”

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