Grumpy Dad (Greenbridge Academy Book 2) by Abby Knox

Author:Abby Knox [Knox, Abby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Author Abby Knox, LLC
Published: 2019-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

18

Vince

I try my best to keep my eyes open while sprawled out on the bed, but the truth is I hate musicals. I’m not a huge fan of watching them on a stage but watching them on TV is some kind of torture. How does everyone burst into song in the middle of a conversation?

Too much…soul searching for me.

“Vince…Vince?”

I snort awake. I actually snort. Such a catch, I am.

“Sorry, what? What did I miss?”

She’s laughing and the way she’s covering her mouth is so damn cute.

“Nothing. We’ve only been watching the movie for about fifteen minutes. Let’s watch something you like. What’s your favorite movie?”

“No, no. This is your night.”

She presses. “Bullshit. What’s your favorite movie?”

I study this precious, innocent modern woman and wonder for a moment whether I think she’ll be able to handle it.

“All right, what the hell,” I say. I heave myself off the bed and pop the disc of Cannonball Run into the DVD player. Yeah, it’s basically ready to go whenever I’m in the mood.

Jewel makes a curious face after a few minutes. “This is your favorite movie?”

“Yes, ma’am, Burt Reynolds is the greatest actor of all time. He—and my dad, of course—taught me everything I know.”

“Huh.”

Eventually she curls up on the bed and nestles into my shoulder. And it’s nice. Cozy. I haven’t felt cozy in, well, in a long time.

After a while, I put my arm around her and she inches closer.

She makes good-natured comments, but I can tell she doesn’t really enjoy the film. She asks. “I’m kind of attracted to Dean Martin in a clerical collar. Is he going to sing anytime soon? …Ooh, Peter Fonda…you know I can see why you like this, I don’t hate looking at Farrah Fawcett.”

I squeeze Jewel’s shoulder and inform her, “I’m not watching for Farrah Fawcett. Burt is the man.”

She considers this. “Well, he does have a lot of hair, which I find sexy. And he has a real bad boy grin. You two have that in common.”

I swivel toward her and brush her hair out of her eyes. “That’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t get a lot of compliments, so I don’t have a lot to compare it to,” I say.

She angles her sweet face up at me and twists her lips doubtfully. “Well, I don’t see why. You are a total stud muffin.”

She nudges me with her stockinged foot.

I have to laugh. “It’s been a while since I heard that.”

“Hey,” she says, her hand petting my leg. “Whatever nice thing I say about you is one hundred percent true.”

I swallow. “I have to confess something.”

“Confess, my son.”

I close my eyes in shame and wait for a bad reaction. “Max isn’t on a play date. He’s spending the night at my cop friend Barry’s house.”

I wait for the ax to fall, but it doesn’t.

She’s confused. “Oh. Well is he OK? Do you need to go pick him up?”

“No, he’s fine. He loves it over there. Barry’s daughters shower him with attention; he probably won’t want to come home tomorrow.

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