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I’ve made myself a promise that one day I’m going to spoil them right back, whether that be paying off their mortgage or sending them around the world, I don’t know. All I do know is that they deserve it and so much more.
I’m sure things have gotten easier for them financially since I moved out a few years ago, but I still want them to have everything they’ve ever dreamed of. After all, they brought me into the world and showed me unconditional love each and every day.
I sit down to dinner with my parents, and they boast about how great I am, and naturally, I let them. “So, how’s everything going?” Dad asks, always worried about my welfare.
“Good,” I smile.
My mom narrows her eyes at my answer. She’s always been able to see right through me. “What do you mean good? What aren’t you telling us?”
“Nothing,” I grumble.
“Georgia,” she scolds.
I let out a huff as I look up at my mom, and unable to help myself, my bottom lip pouts out. “It’s a boy.”
“What boy?” my father demands, hating the idea that I’m a grown-ass woman.
“His name is Sean. I met him in the ER and helped his daughter. Then I somehow got roped into going dirt bike riding, and just when I thought he was perfect, I found out the guy is married.”
Dad scoffs, which brings on a string of grumbled curses under his breath.
“Don’t worry, love. You can’t let it get you down. I dated hundreds of clowns before I met your father,” my mother says before giving me an encouraging smile. “And you know what? He’s a clown, too.”
“What are you saying, Mom?” I smirk, playing with her and enjoying the reaction I know I’m going to get. “You want me to settle for a clown?”
She gives me a blank stare. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“I know,” I smile. “You want me to date hundreds of men.”
“Georgia,” she scolds.
“Gee,” Dad sighs. “Don’t do that to your poor mom.”
A wicked satisfaction fires through my chest. There’s nothing I love more than teasing these two, and there’s nothing they love more than calling me out on it. “Sorry,” I murmur.
“Gee,” Dad reprimands as if I’m still a child. “What have I told you about apologizing?”
I force myself to not roll my eyes at him. “Only do it if you truly mean it,” I say, reciting the memorized phrase from my childhood.
“Good, now quit talking about boys and eat your dinner. You need more meat on your bones.”
With that, we dig into our food, and twenty minutes later, we wash up and eventually find our way to the couch. Dad flicks through the channels while I cuddle up to my mother and enjoy being a child again, forgetting about life, forgetting about responsibilities, and forgetting about Sean.
Chapter 11
SEAN
Striding through the door of Georgie’s preschool, I grab her bag and watch as she plays with the other kids, a wide smile resting on my lips. She spins around, laughing with her friends, and spots me almost immediately. Her little face lights up. “Daddy!” she booms, barreling into me with open arms.
After giving her a quick cuddle and checking on her day, I squeeze my arms through her little school bag and grab her around the waist to hoist her up on my shoulders.
I unlatch the safety gate and slip through, making sure to not let any of the other rugrats out. “Say bye, Georgie,” I tell her as she giggles, showing off to her friends that she’s on her daddy’s shoulders.
“Bye, bye, Miss Beccy,” Georgie says.
The preschool teacher turns around and gives my girl a beaming smile. “See you next week, Georgie,” she tells her before training a flirty stare on me. “See you later, Sean.”
“Bye Bec,” I say, doing my best to avoid eye contact as I turn on my heel and walk up the hallway. Ever since Sara passed, I’ve grown used to the way random women look at me like a challenge, but I’m fucking over it.
Walking out the door and into the parking lot, I hold onto Georgie’s ankles so she doesn’t fall. “Were you a good girl today?” I ask, reaching my truck and pulling her down.
“No,” she grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief as I open the door and start buckling her in.
I stop what I’m doing and look up at the little monkey. “Why?” I question, knowing this could go anywhere.
Her eyes meet mine and she gives me big puppy dog eyes as though that’s going to save her. “Well . . .” she starts, glancing away. “Sammy was pwaying wif Gemma, but I wanted to pway wif her, so I pushed him down and he cried like baby Hudson.”
“Georgia,” I scold, wondering why the hell her teachers didn’t bring this up with me. I mean, it’s not like this is normal for her. She’s never intentionally hurt another child before.
