Page 46 of Saint
I shook my head at him, not giving him a response.
Me – Sounds good, baby. I’ll be done by two forty. Want me to pick Princess up?
My phone beeped when I was almost at the clubhouse.
I flipped it open and read it.
My Forever – Didn’t you plan to go to Albert’s after you got off and help him get the water pump on his truck?
I had completely forgotten about that. Damnit.
Me – Okay. I’m picking her up tomorrow. I promised her ice cream after school one day this week. I should be home around six.
Me–Be careful going and getting the princess.
My Forever–Will do. Please be careful.
Me – Always.
And I always would be, especially because I couldn’t live in a place where the two most important beings in my life didn’t exist.
Now that I have found them.
No way in hell was I letting them go.
I pocketed my phone, made my way through the clubhouse, and into the kitchen.
Roast Beef with Swiss cheese subs and chips was what I had for lunch.
I had just popped the last chip in my mouth when Agatha stood up and placed her hands on her hips.
Oh shit. Here we go.
“I’m thinking about doing a potluck and a secret Santa,” Agatha told the room.
Everyone groaned.
But me, Kettle, and Merlin.
Kettle because he didn’t talk. He only talked when something mattered to him.
Merlin, because it made his wife, Temperance, aka Tempie, smile like nobody’s business when the holidays rolled around.
As for me, well, I didn’t groan because, with all of this, I would be celebrating it with the two people who meant the most to me in the world. That was if I had a say in the matter.
That was why I looked at Agatha and said, “I’ll talk to Ophelia and see if she’s cool with that.”
She nodded and smiled.
I felt eyes on me, which caused me to scan the room, and when I saw that it was Jury, I looked at him and lifted a brow.
It didn’t take him long to open his mouth, one I was forcing myself not to shut it for him, “She’s got a kid. You do realize what all that entails. Right?”
I narrowed my eyes at him and growled, “I’m trying real goddamned hard not to knock your fuckin’ lights out.”
He threw up his hands, “Don’t shoot the messenger, brother. I’m just saying.”
“So, fuckin’ what if she has a kid? So, fuckin’ what if she has ten kids? She’s a good fuckin’ woman raising an incredible daughter. What’s fuckin’ wrong with that?”
