not expect to get that kind of response from a woman.”
He looked at her blankly, and she could tell he was still stunned by the passion she had put into that kiss. “You will come to dinner on Saturday to meet Daddy won’t you?”
“Of course, I’m looking forward to it.”
She unlocked her seatbelt and opened the car door. “Thank you for a very special day,” she said softly. “I will never forget it.” Then she was gone, walking briskly up the path to the house before he could see the tears that had flooded her eyes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That’s the last of my stuff,” Jack said, cramming a couple of shirts into a chest of drawers.
“I don’t know how you find any of your clothes when you stuff them into drawers like that, Daddy.” Christy was watching him disapprovingly from where she was sitting on the windowsill.
“It’s alright for you, Baby Girl; you inherited your mother’s tidiness gene. But I’m afraid I was born with the messy one.”
“Daddy, it’s got nothing to do with genes and you know it. When it comes to putting things away neatly you’re just bone lazy.”
“No, it’s the genes, Darling, it’s the genes. They’re the ones to blame for my problem.”
She sighed. He was impossible.
“What’s the name of this young feller of yours that’s coming to dinner tonight?”
“I’ve already told you about six times.”
“Well run it by me again. You know what I’m like with names.”
“His name is Kent.”
“Kent…unusual name that.” He grinned at her. “I’ll never remember it you know. I’m terrible at names.”
“You’ll have to practice it before he gets here. I don’t want you making him feel uncomfortable.”
“I know what I’ll do. I’ll use word association. That usually works for me.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what happened last time you tried that trick.”
He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. “No, what happened?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”
He stared off into space as if trying to drag the memory to the front of his brain. “Nope,” he said eventually, “can’t recall.”
“Shelly Stanbury?”
“Oh…that’s right.” He grinned impishly. “Wasn’t that a funny business?”
“It wasn’t funny for me, I can assure you. I was completely embarrassed and she was mortified.”
“But it worked though, didn’t it?”
“If you consider calling her ‘Smelly Shelley’ in the middle of dinner ‘working,’ then yes, I guess it did.”
“Smelly Shelley with the great big belly,” he chuckled at the memory. “You know, it worked so well I just couldn’t get it out of my head.”
“Just don’t mess up tonight.”
“I won’t, Darling.” One eyebrow shot up. “What’s his name again?”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re impossible.” Slipping off the windowsill she walked over and tapped her finger on his forehead. “It’s Kent…Kent…got it?”
“Okay…let’s see how I can do this. I’ve got it. Help me with the tent, Kent. Or maybe, that’s money well spent, Kent?”
She shook her head at him. “You’re going to stuff this up aren’t you? I just know that you are.”
♥
Christy bounded excitedly over to the door within seconds of it ringing. “Hello,” she said sweetly, holding the door open for Kent to step inside.
Jack was close behind, a hand extended in greeting. “Pleased to meet you, Brent,” he said warmly.
Christy groaned. “It’s Kent, Daddy.”
“Ah,” Jack muttered, releasing his grip. “Sorry about that. But I’m terrible with names.”
“That’s alright, Jock,” Kent said with a straight face, “I totally understand.”
Jack looked at him. “It’s Jack,” he said, then noticed the grin break out on Kent’s face. “Ah, you got me,” he said, returning the grin. “I like this guy,” he whispered to Christy as she ushered them into the lounge.
“So what line of business are you in…ah…how’s the tent,” Jack muttered to
He looked at her blankly, and she could tell he was still stunned by the passion she had put into that kiss. “You will come to dinner on Saturday to meet Daddy won’t you?”
“Of course, I’m looking forward to it.”
She unlocked her seatbelt and opened the car door. “Thank you for a very special day,” she said softly. “I will never forget it.” Then she was gone, walking briskly up the path to the house before he could see the tears that had flooded her eyes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That’s the last of my stuff,” Jack said, cramming a couple of shirts into a chest of drawers.
“I don’t know how you find any of your clothes when you stuff them into drawers like that, Daddy.” Christy was watching him disapprovingly from where she was sitting on the windowsill.
“It’s alright for you, Baby Girl; you inherited your mother’s tidiness gene. But I’m afraid I was born with the messy one.”
“Daddy, it’s got nothing to do with genes and you know it. When it comes to putting things away neatly you’re just bone lazy.”
“No, it’s the genes, Darling, it’s the genes. They’re the ones to blame for my problem.”
She sighed. He was impossible.
“What’s the name of this young feller of yours that’s coming to dinner tonight?”
“I’ve already told you about six times.”
“Well run it by me again. You know what I’m like with names.”
“His name is Kent.”
“Kent…unusual name that.” He grinned at her. “I’ll never remember it you know. I’m terrible at names.”
“You’ll have to practice it before he gets here. I don’t want you making him feel uncomfortable.”
“I know what I’ll do. I’ll use word association. That usually works for me.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what happened last time you tried that trick.”
He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. “No, what happened?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”
He stared off into space as if trying to drag the memory to the front of his brain. “Nope,” he said eventually, “can’t recall.”
“Shelly Stanbury?”
“Oh…that’s right.” He grinned impishly. “Wasn’t that a funny business?”
“It wasn’t funny for me, I can assure you. I was completely embarrassed and she was mortified.”
“But it worked though, didn’t it?”
“If you consider calling her ‘Smelly Shelley’ in the middle of dinner ‘working,’ then yes, I guess it did.”
“Smelly Shelley with the great big belly,” he chuckled at the memory. “You know, it worked so well I just couldn’t get it out of my head.”
“Just don’t mess up tonight.”
“I won’t, Darling.” One eyebrow shot up. “What’s his name again?”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re impossible.” Slipping off the windowsill she walked over and tapped her finger on his forehead. “It’s Kent…Kent…got it?”
“Okay…let’s see how I can do this. I’ve got it. Help me with the tent, Kent. Or maybe, that’s money well spent, Kent?”
She shook her head at him. “You’re going to stuff this up aren’t you? I just know that you are.”
♥
Christy bounded excitedly over to the door within seconds of it ringing. “Hello,” she said sweetly, holding the door open for Kent to step inside.
Jack was close behind, a hand extended in greeting. “Pleased to meet you, Brent,” he said warmly.
Christy groaned. “It’s Kent, Daddy.”
“Ah,” Jack muttered, releasing his grip. “Sorry about that. But I’m terrible with names.”
“That’s alright, Jock,” Kent said with a straight face, “I totally understand.”
Jack looked at him. “It’s Jack,” he said, then noticed the grin break out on Kent’s face. “Ah, you got me,” he said, returning the grin. “I like this guy,” he whispered to Christy as she ushered them into the lounge.
“So what line of business are you in…ah…how’s the tent,” Jack muttered to
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