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“I thank God every day.” She smirks. “You know he’ll be home tomorrow night, and I would love it if you let him meet you. Like really meet you.”
“I’m cool with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why, did you think I’d be a dick about it?”
“I don’t know. We’ve never talked about it.”
“I’m not that asshole.” I take the glass she offers me with one hand while running an appreciative hand over her ass with the other before pulling her back into my lap. “Love who you want, fuck who you want, as long as it’s not Harper Elliot.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Cheers.” We clink glasses, and I take a sip.
She elbows me. “Your turn.”
“Harper, come on. I can think of a thousand other things I’d rather discuss.”
“Tell me.”
“You’re a pushy little chick.”
She grinds her ass into me, and I groan. “Don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing.”
“Mmm. Let’s get drunk and have drunk sex. I’ve never had it.”
“Fine with me, baby,” I lean in and kiss her neck.
“Is it better?”
“No, it’s sloppier, but your inhibitions go straight out the window. It can be fun.”
“Well, then, drink up.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“Funeral, Prescott.”
“Jesus, fine. Bury me.”
“Wow. Impressive.”
“Next to my parents.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“On the ranch.”
“Makes sense.”
“And my wife.”
