Page 73 of The Plus One Contract

He grunts. “It leans.”

“It’s rustic,” I deadpan.

“It’s a hazard. I’ve got grandkids coming soon.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “From who? Because if you’re putting that pressure on me again, I swear to God—”

“Relax.” He waves me off, smiling to himself. “Jeremy and Grace are already planning. I’m just saying, maybe I’ll throw in a little fire pit, too.”

“Sounds good, Dad.”

“You still working that job you like so much?”

“I am,” I say, and I can’t help smiling. “It’s good. Busy.”

He narrows his eyes. “You letting some stiff in a suit boss you around?”

“Never,” I reply with mock offense. “I’m the boss.”

“Damn right you are.”

He gives me a wink and pushes off the counter. “Alright, I’m going back to bed before your mother realizes I’m not snoring and makes me do something.”

“Good luck.”

“Night, kid.”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

He disappears down the hallway, and I stay behind, arms folded on the counter. The kitchen is still too quiet. I check the time on my phone for the hundredth time tonight, chewing my bottom lip before tapping out a message.

Me:I know it’s late, but I hope everything went okay.

I stare at the screen, already regretting it. He won’t answer. Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe he’s—

My phone lights up.

Incoming call:Nathan Calloway

Shit.

I fumble to answer, pressing the phone to my ear like I didn’t just text him thirty seconds ago.

“Hello?” I whisper.

“Sienna.” He sounds exhausted. His voice is a little rough, like gravel and heartbreak.

Just hearing him makes something tug painfully in my chest.

I sink onto a kitchen stool, curling my legs under me. “What are you doing awake?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to admit the truth. That I was worried. That I’ve been thinking about him since the moment he dropped me off.

“I was hungry,” I say instead.

He huffs a tired laugh. “Hungry?”

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