That he’s been encouraging metohave.
“And I was gonna tell you about it before makin’ anything official, Gillybean. Honest to Gloria Gaynor.”
“The issue is youtelling me, Thayne.” I relinquish the mirror to grab another metal tool to finish poking at a few spots of concern. “This isn’t atellsituation. This is anaskanddiscusstype.”
“Except thereisno discussion to have.”
At that, my face yet again cocks itself over my shoulder.
“Iamgonna do whatever I gotta do to take care of my family.” His gray sweatshirt cloaked arms fold firmly over his massive chest. “Family is theone thingthat’s more important to me than hockey, music, and coffee.” Unyielding passion pumps through his hazel stare. “It has –and will always– come first.”
This time it’s me that slightly shrinks underneath the weight of shame.
“Now, do I want you to help me raise the hellion whose mouth you have your fingers in? Of course. Do I thinkhewants that too? Yeah, though he’ll never say it.” One quick glance at Bronny reveals a less than innocent expression. “Do I think you’d be the best guardian anyone could ever ask for? Absolutely, baby.”
I thoughtlessly soften at the compliment.
“But if that’s not the journey you wanna take or feel ready to take, then that’s fine. I’ll figure shit out on my own. I’m not gonna force you into it. I would never force you into somethin’. You know that’s not the type of man I am.”
And he’s not.
Never has been.
Never will be.
Just not in his gentle giant nature.
“Of course, I wanna be there for you and Bronny,” swiftly leaves me in a sweet tone. “I justalsowant us totalkabout things and decisions, especially ones that affectbothof us and/or our relationship.” One eyebrow lifts itself higher than the other. “Fair?”
“Fair.” The corner of his lips curl upward in playfulness. “I promise not to turn you into ‘Good Hearted Woman’, aye.”
“You know that song was actually written about Tina Turner?” My prodding resumes. “Probably the only reason I know it.”
“It’s a good song,” Jukes appreciatively states. “Bittersweet.”
“Igoonnniiikkk,” interjects Bronny between pokes.
“That’s also what your teeth are screaming about,” I sassily pronounce prior to one final push on his gums. “And if you don’t make some diet adjustments, you’re gonna be back here in six months, needing a bunch of cavities filled.”
“Nohuh,” argues the teen at the same time I discard the pointy object for my final diagnostic tool. “You’re jus’ tryin’ to scare me into eatin’ better.”
“Hey, if you want me to go allLittle Shop of Horrorson you, that’s your call.” Turning on the device is attached to a teasing smile he can’t see because of the mask. “Open.”
Bronny lets his nose scrunch, looking almost identical to his older brother. “What’s that thing for?”
“Gotta test your bite.”
“To make sure it’s stronger than his arf?”
“Bark,” huffs the teen.
“Not what I would call that shit on my cameras.”
Redness pierces his cheeks prompting me to regain control over the conversation. “This’ll help me test your bite force dynamics more accurately and precisely.” Carefully adjusting the device with my right hand is followed by meextending my left to wake up the computer screen. “It gives me the ability to analyze lateral movement, chewing, and the state of your teeth on a deeper level, which is what I want on your first comprehensive examorif you’re coming in for one of the other things we do here like the moldings for your,” my hand gestures in my boyfriend’s direction, “gumshield.”
“I love it when you talk dentist to me,” he saucily winks getting me to giggle and his brother to gag.
“And now that I am talking dentist to you,” I meet his gaze one more, “when’s the last time you got fitted for a gumshield?”
