Page 76 of Three Pucking Words
Bodhi’s lips twitch. “It isn’t up to them to decide who I bring into my life. And you’re not some random girl, Honor.”
“To them I am,” I argue, not allowing my heart to soak in those words and make assumptions.
“Joe and Helen know you’re Coach Erikson’s daughter, that you have a dog, and that you like the aquarium almost as much as Gemma.” I’m about to tell him the last fact is a stretch, when he adds, “When you were ten.”
A small smile appears on my lips.
“They also know you can make amazing soup, know all the words to Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off”, and can skate like a pro.”
All of those things, minus maybe the last tidbit of information, are true. But because I know he’ll argue with me if I point that out, I don’t for the sake of time. “How do they know those things exactly?”
One word. “Gemma.”
Gemma.
“Your daughter told them aboutme?”
He nods. “I may have interjected a few other facts. Like the skating one. Joe said it was good if I found someone to show me up on the ice,” he muses with an easy smile. “Helen asked if you could send her a recipe for the chicken noodle soup because Gemma keeps asking her for more. Apparently, Campbell’s has nothing on you.”
The compliment makes me blush. “I can write one down for her” is the only response I can come up with. Because I don’t know what to say about him feeding information about me to his ex’s mom and dad. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem to suffice. I’m not sure it’s even appropriate.
“Are you sure that they’re not going to be uncomfortable with me around?” I doubt, frowning at the thought of spending a day with people who don’t think I should be near Gemma.
I wouldn’t blame them. If their daughter can’t be with her child, why should some stranger that may or may not be a permanent fixture in Bodhi’s and Gemma’s life?
“Honor,” Bodhi says in a low, gentle voice. His eyes study my face as those fingers that were once holding my chin move down to cup my collarbone. “I promise you that it’s going to be okay. They’re not going to chase you with pitchforks or tell me that I can do better.”
It’s notmeI’m worried about.
“Before Inez passed,” he explains quietly. “She was seeing someone. She washappy. She found someone who could give her what I couldn’t. They don’t hold any grudges against it not working out with us because they knew she wouldn’t have been happy if we’d settled for a relationship solely because of our daughter.”
He speaks of Inez with sad fondness—like losing a friend. “Did you ever consider being with her for Gemma?”
It’s a question I asked years ago at the bar, when we were two strangers who had nothing to offer each other except advice. He’d never answered me then, and I wonder if it’s because he’d wanted to give things a shot for the sake of his child. No matter the jealousy poking my heart, it’s admirable if he tried.
He doesn’t hesitate to nod. “I did. But I think we both knew it wouldn’t have lasted. I’m glad she found someone. So were her parents. They got to see her glowing before…” His words trail off before he clears his throat. “I think that’s why they want the same for me.”
That’s sweet of them to want that. I know plenty of people who would choose pettiness. My mother being one of them.
Wait a minute. I make a face. “Do they think that we’re…?” His eyes glimmer as I struggle to finish that sentence.Is hegoing to make me finish it?
“That we’re…” He repeats knowingly.
I want to glare at him. “Do they think we’retogether?” I ask, sounding a little off. “That this is some sort of date?”
His smile stretches. “I don’t bring my daughter on dates, so no. They don’t think this is a date. Speaking of, we should get going. Gemma is impatient.”
With that, he opens the door and gestures for me to climb inside. It’s almost comical how slow I am to settle into the seat, and how the nerves become tenfold when I hear a cute giggle followed by, “He licked me.”
I turn to see Puck sitting directly beside Gemma’s car seat, looking happy as ever to be going on a ride. He loves them almost as much as he loves walks. And he loves getting attention even more than both of those things. “Do you like dogs, Gemma?”
The cute brunette nods vigorously. “Daddy said we can’t get one though cause they’re a lot of work.”
I smile, watching as Bodhi grins while shaking his head at being ratted out. I focus back on the little girl stroking Puck’s fur. “They are. He’s right.”
“Maybe we can keep Puck at our house,” she suggests innocently, staring solely at the golden retriever whose tongue is lazily hanging out the side of his mouth as he gets fussed over.
It’s Bodhi who says, “We’ve talked about this, Cookie Monster. Puck is a working dog. He needs to be with Honor at all times.”
