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“I could get on board with that.” Wren leaned on the peninsula of the counter and clasped her hands in front of her. “Especially if it means I get a hot farmer to keep me warm at night. Although with the number of orgasms I’d expect and lack of birth control back then, I’d end up popping out babies like they were breath mints.” She snapped her fingers in rapid succession.
“Jesus.” Dad dropped his head between his shoulders and shook it.
“Stop torturing Dad.” I turned from my bestie to my father. “One thing before we go. Mom and Dave are going to Paris for Christmas.”
His blue eyes narrowed, but he kept his mouth closed tight. He was likely holding back a comment for my sake. He didn’t love Mom and Dave’s free-spirit approach to life. Mostly because, for years, it made co-parenting hard. He’d often had to cancel his plans because they decided to travel at the last minute leaving me with him on his off weekends.
“And I know you have plans for Christmas.”
He was taking a trip with his friends to an island somewhere in the Caribbean. Antigua, maybe?
“You can come,” he rushed out. “A few of the guys are bringing their families. I’d love to have you. You know that.”
I did. He’d invited me four times already.
I sighed. “Idoknow that. Butyouknow that I have to work that week. And before you offer to stay home, I will be perfectly fine.”
“I don’t want you to be alone for the holidays.”
“She won’t be.” Wren scooted around the peninsula and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “You know I’ll have her with me and my parents, Big Papi.”
He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s David Ortiz.”
“Oh. Hmm.” She shrugged. “Well, I’ll find something to call you.”
“Mr. Wilson,” he suggested for the millionth time.
I bit back a laugh. I knew better than to think that would stop their back-and-forth. My dad wasn’t dumb, so he had to realize that too.
“That’s what I called you when I was twelve.”
“And yet my name hasn’t changed.”
“But I have.” She battered her lashes at him.
I groaned, suddenly feeling like I might throw up. “Please don’t flirt with Dad. That’s gross.”
She slapped the granite countertop with both hands and cackled. Dad just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“And with that, we’re leaving.” After I kissed Dad’s cheek, I grasped Wren’s wrist and pulled her to the foyer.
As we headed out, she called, “Bye,Mr. Wilson.” With a grin, she pulled the door shut behind us.
I grasped her shoulders over her thick coat and forced her to look at me. “Please don’t try to date my dad.”
She snorted and mimicked my stance, now cupping my shoulders. “He’s entirely too uptight to date me.”
I wasn’t 100 percent sure of that. “All the same, please don’t.”
She rolled her eyes along with most of her head, making her bangs dance across her face. “I like messing with him, but my parents would literally send me back to Minnesota and force me to live with family there if I came home and said I was fucking your dad.”
I tried not to gag at the idea.
“But I hear what you’re saying, and I’ll stop if it bugs you.”
Then she went right, but I stopped just outside the building and turned toward the harbor.
When she realized I wasn’t beside her, she halted and spun to face me. “Aren’t you coming?”
