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“What’s that?” I asked.

“We were walking in the woods, and he told me that if there are leaves of three, don’t touch your pee pee.”

I closed my eyes as laughter boiled inside of me. “That’s a pretty good one. I would hate to have poison ivy on my lower half.”

Actually, that sounded like one of the worst possible things that could happen. I’d had my share of yeast infections and bladder infections—funny enough, that’d been the reason I’d first seen Courtland. I’d gone to The Mercantile—which I was still banned from, might I add—because I’d needed to get a prescription for my raging yeast infection from antibiotics for a bladder infection.

I’d been miserable and in quite possibly the worst mood ever.

The last thing I’d wanted to do was spar with Vera, the owner, over whatever made-up bullshit she’d concocted in her head. But she’d gone there, so I’d let my attitude out to play and had hit her with it.

She’d banned me, but I’d left with my prescription.

On my way out, I’d glanced up and to the side, and saw Court staring at me with amusement on his face.

His lips, so full and supple for a man, hadn’t been tipped up. But I’d seen laughter in his gray eyes.

It’d taken me a heartbeat to peel my eyes away from his face.

And when I did, I’d gotten a good look at his upper half.

His arms had been resting on top of the table, his hands folded in as he stared at me. His black t-shirt had been stretched tightly over a great set of shoulders. His…

A piercing scream made me wince, and I looked over my shoulder to see that my daughter was awake.

Abbett, so unlike our son Benton, wasn’t laid back.

From the moment she’d been born, she’d suffered from colic.

Poor Court had been relegated to walking the halls with her at night because she wanted nothing to do with me. There’d been a time in the first three months of her life that I wondered if she even liked me. She wanted nothing to do with me, especially if Benton or Court was in the room.

It’d probably been around the five-month mark that she’d finally started to tolerate me.

And now, she was my little sidekick.

Daddy was still her heart and soul, Benton her breath. But I was finally something more than the poop at the bottom of Peter’s cage.

Speaking of Peter…

“You ready?” I asked Peter.

“Ready!”

He started to do his excited dance, and I rolled the window down for him.

When I picked Benton up from school, I usually took Peter with me because he usually kept Abbett entertained. Not today, though, based on the ‘I’m about to die’ screams that my kid was letting out in the back seat.

When we got close to the house, sometimes I let Peter out to fly home if it wasn’t too awful out.

Today was mild.

There was still a ton of snow on the ground, but there was at least none falling from the sky.

Peter flew out, and he was joined by another bird of prey in the sky.

Possum.

Constance must be at the house with Odin.