Page 63 of Nixon’s Promise

“I’m callin’ it a night. You fuckers are on your own,” Nix announced. “Tomorrow after our meeting we’ll figure out better sleeping arrangements.”

“That’s it? You got nothing to say for yourself?” Jameson asked.

“Nope.”

“Not even going to deny you’ve turned into a cuddly house kitty?” Chasin tried.

“Nope.” He smiled.

“Christ, he has. Nixon’s gone soft,” Weston threw in.

“Brother, the last thing McKenna makes me is soft. All you fuckers can call me whatever you want. You spend five minutes with her, and you’ll understand.”

With a flick of his hand, Nixon left his friends in his living room laughing and went upstairs. He quickly undressed, got into bed, and nabbed his phone off the nightstand.

Pulling up his text app, he shot one off to McKenna: Thanks for tonight.

Her reply was immediate: Hope it was all right I invited your friend for dinner without asking you first. And you’re always welcome. Dinner. Lunch. A midday excursion to build up an appetite. Maybe one day we can even graduate to breakfast.

Nixon stared at his phone for a solid two minutes, rereading her message. Then he smiled and decided to break it down for her: I want you to meet my friends. What I don’t want is them taking advantage of you. Which they’ll do. I hope you know, you should expect Holden will be hitting you up for another home cooked meal. We haven’t had very many of those over the years.

He hit send and started to tap out a second message, one he hoped wouldn’t make him sound like a possessive ass: The only reason we haven’t graduated to breakfast is because I’m trying to set an example for the two teenagers in your house. But I have to warn you, I want to be in your bed. Sooner rather than later. We’re gonna have to talk to Zack and Amanda soon about me being there in the morning.

Nixon sent the text, placed his phone on his chest and waited. McKenna’s response didn’t come immediately like her first one had. And he was beginning to wonder if he’d made a mistake. He’d told her the truth, the only reason he hadn’t been spending more time over at her house, and in her bed, was because of Zack and Mandy.

He needed Zack to know that he not only respected McKenna, but he respected him and Mandy, too. He also wanted the teenager to learn that anything worth having is worth earning. So, Nix had been willing to move slow until Zack understood both of those things.

Mandy, being a young woman, needed to learn something different. That a man didn’t take. He gave. He didn’t take your time without giving you his in return. He didn’t take any of the gifts a woman was offering without knowing he could give her more in return. And he never took a woman’s heart without being willing to hand over his.

And Nixon was willing.

He wasn’t guarding himself. He wanted McKenna, and that meant he’d gladly take on the task of helping her with two teenagers. He knew nothing about guiding or raising teens into adults, but he’d learn, if it meant taking some of the load off his woman.

The phone vibrated on Nixon’s chest and he picked it up and read her text: I was worried I was being presumptuous inviting Holden over. We hadn’t talked about where this is headed, and well, I was nervous I’d made a mistake and mistook where we’re at. I’m not good at reading situations, so if I’m making assumptions please tell me.

Nixon frowned at his phone.

Mistook where they were?

What the fuck?

He hit the call icon in the corner of the text thread and put the phone to his ear.

It took a few rings for McKenna to answer, and when she did, she sounded out of breath.

“Hey.”

“Where are you?”

“I forgot to feed the ducks,” she sighed.

“You’re outside?” he clipped.

“Yeah. Behind the barn. You know where I keep ‘em.”

Nixon mentally chastised himself for being such an asshole. He should have asked her what chores had to be done before he left. Now his woman was outside, feeding Goddamn ducks at nearly eleven at night.

“Are you done?”