Page 59 of Once Upon a Holidate
She smiled. “Mom’s at fault, too. She should have made me see you.”
“I’ll be sure to mention that the next time we talk. She always enjoys being told she’s wrong.”
Joylyn laughed.
He reached for her hand again. “Can we start over? Can you believe that I’m so happy you’re here and that no matter what, you’re never getting rid of me?”
“I’ll try.”
“I love you, Joylyn.”
She swallowed. “I love you, too, Dad.”
He let the words wash over him. For this moment, things were good. He wasn’t dumb enough to believe one conversation could fix five or six years of problems, but it was a start.
“You want to go out to dinner?” he asked. “You can pick where. We can even go to that horrible barbecue place you like.”
“Why don’t you like it? You like barbecue.”
“It’s too cute. They’re trying too hard.”
“You just don’t like the dancing pigs. I think they’re the best part.”
He rose. “That’s where you want to go, isn’t it?”
She grinned. “You know it. And when we get home, we’re going to decorate the house.”
“As long as it’s not with dancing pigs, I’m in.”
Got a second?
Wynn stared at the text, ignoring the sense of excitement that bubbled up inside her at the message. Garrick wasn’t texting her about sex—it was after eight on a school night. There was no way they could do anything. Not that it being a school night mattered for them, but it meant Hunter was home.
Maybe she should hint to Hunter to have a sleepover with one of his friends, then figure out a way to subtly tell Garrick that she was going to have the house to herself, she thought with a smile as she texted him back.
Yes and you can even have more than just the one second.
Very funny. I’ll be right over.
She stood and looked at her son. Hunter was stretched out on the family room sectional, his gaze glued on the television where one of his favorite sitcoms played.
“Garrick’s going to stop by to talk about something,” she said. “We’ll be in the living room.”
“Okay, Mom.” His attention never left the screen.
“Later we’re going to hunt parrots and sell them on eBay.”
This time Hunter turned to face her. “Just because I don’t look at you doesn’t mean I’m not listening.”
She laughed. “Just checking.”
“Where would you hunt parrots? Aren’t they from South America? That’s a long way to go.”
“Yes, it is, although I believe there is a flock of parrots living somewhere in Los Angeles. And it’s not really a flock. A group of parrots is called a pandemonium.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Not even a little.”
