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“I fuckin’ love my life,” I told Blaine.
She buried her face into my shoulder. “I fuckin’ love my life, too.”
Book:I Don’t Dance
CHAPTER 6
My mouth can finish this argument in two different ways. You decide which one.
-Lenore to Griffin
GRIFFIN
I walked through the front door of my house, cursing because I was already running late, and I’d forgotten my freakin’ service revolver. Who the hell did that when they were a Texas Ranger, for God’s sake?
Me, that’s who.
I’d been in such a tizzy to get out of the house today thanks to the kids being home from school, changing my daily routine, that I didn’t even think. I just got up, got dressed, and left. Only, I was about halfway to the station when I realized that I’d left my gun behind.
Mimi, my little mini-me, saw me coming and her eyes widened comically.
“Daddy!” she cried.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you looking at me like you just got caught doing something bad?”
My walk slowed, and I tilted my head to study her.
She was normally my cool, calm, and collected child.
She was not the one who lied or tried to hide things.
At least, not unless it came to her mother.
“Ummmmm,” she looked toward the back door. “I didn’t. What are you talking about?”
I passed her by and walked into the kitchen to peer out into the back yard, only to find my shed door standing wide open.
“Who’s in the shed?” I asked.
“Umm,” Mimi said. “Nobody?”
I rolled my eyes then yelled out, “Lenore!”
When no answer was forthcoming, I turned back to Mimi only to see her booking it outside.
“Abort! Abort!” she screamed as she ran toward the shed.
I followed behind her, hot on her heels.
When I made it to the shed door I came to a sudden, shocked halt.
“Oh, no,” Mimi said. “You’re caught, Mama!”
Lenore, who was busy holding up some baby chickens to her face, looked at me like I’d caught her red-handed.
“You did not get more chickens,” I said, looking at her, the chickens in the large horse trough, and then her again.
She swallowed hard.
