“Of course he did!” Kyra jokes, practically rolling her eyes.
“Now it’s your turn, Dad,” Deacon says, spotlight off Layla and I.
“Okay,” I tell him, grasping the box he hands me. I give it a little shake, just as Layla did.
“Just open it!” Kyra directs me, impatient.
I rip through the paper and open the box. And what I see makes my heart almost melt. It’s a picture of us three, carved into a baseball bat barrel. And if I’m not mistaken, it’s an old bat of mine. How freaking awesome is that?!
“I love it. Kyra and Deacon, thank you.” The tag said it was from both of them. And I do love it. It’s perfect.
Layla leans over and hands me a present. I untie the bow at the top and open the lid. Inside is a bottle of ultra exclusive whiskey.
“Thank you, Layla. You know me so well,” I say, smiling. I really do love top shelf whiskey.
After all the gifts are opened, Deacon has lost interest and is looking at his phone and Kyra and Layla are chatting in the kitchen. I want to know what they’re talking about, but I also don’t want to interrupt them. I’m so glad to see that my daughter is okay with Layla. Not that she would hate Layla. I wasn’t worried about that. I was a tad worried Kyra would hate the idea of Layla. But that doesn’t seem to have happened.
Eventually though, I stride into the kitchen, interrupting their candid conversation. Wrapping an arm around Layla, I smile at her. Then at Kyra. “Sorry to interrupt. But I need to get you two back to your mom’s.”
“Already? Ugg,” Kyra laments.
I concur. My time with my kids always goes by way too fast. I give her a sympathetic smile. “Get your coat on and I’ll gather up all the gifts.”
She nods and heads back into the living room. “What were you and Kyra chatting about?” I ask Layla.
“Kyra was asking me about my company. Business stuff. She seems eager to learn.”
I nod. “She’s a voracious learner. She likes to learn about almost anything. Smart as a whip, too.”
Layla smiles. “I noticed.”
Brushing a quick kiss across her lips, I murmur a quick thank you.
“No need to thank me. Your kids are great.”
I nod, giving her one last peck on the lips. “Okay. I need to drive them back to their mom’s. You want to ride along? Or would you rather stay here?”
“I think I’ll stay here.”
“I won’t be gone long.”
She nods and grabs a cookie.
“Wait for me.”
“Always.”
Layla
After Gabe gets back, we sit in front of the fire and relax listening to some of Gabe’s favorite music on vinyl. I have a glass of wine in hand and he has a glass of whiskey. Not only does the man have exquisite taste in music, but alcohol, as well.
“Today was a pretty good day,” he says.
“It was. I like your family.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I…”
“You what?” I implore.
