Ella gags. “Don’t say that!”
“I better go,” I say. “Send me some photos of the kids, okay?”
Gable grins wickedly. “You are so getting laid.”
“Bye Dad!” Ella says and hangs up.
I hadn’t given any thought to how I’d explain Monty’s presence. I was half hoping she’d be upstairs through the entire video call so I wouldn’t have to explain anything.
“How are the Flynns?” Monty asks as she goes to the kitchen.
“Fine. Tired. Should we carry Fox around the block? He can’t go for a walk until his shots,” I say, and she nods excitedly.
“Give me five minutes to get ready!” She darts up the stairs, Fox on her heels, and I take my coat off the hook.
Monty’s scarf falls to the ground, and I crouch to pick it up. The smell of expensive cologne hits me, and I catch sight of a label on the inside and a name. Seth Sinclair.
So, that’s who she was with.
I kick aside my curiosity and hope he at least treats her right, and pray she won’t end up killing him.
It’s bitterly cold out, and we get stopped more than once by people out on their Christmas walks. They fuss over Fox, who is tucked up in my coat. He’s well-behaved though, happy to take in the sights as we circle the block.
“Can I use more than one card a day?” I ask as we walk.
Monty shakes her head. “Except the blue card. You can use that anytime.”
Shit. I really need to think about this. It needs to be an important question, one that I’m dying to know the truth about.
“Does six cards mean you’re leaving in six days?”
“Yep. I have friends in New York. I want to see them.”
That suddenly feels too soon. I may not have wanted her here at first, but now I find myself a little disappointed that she’s leaving so quickly. I must be lonelier than I thought.
“I guess we better make the most of this time, then,” I say, smiling down at her. Her returning smile is warm—maybe even kind.
And I wonder if I’m being offered a week of the real Monty, or if I’m falling for another one of her lies.
Chapter 8
Guy
The next day while Fox snoozes, I get up to go for a run, but Monty is already in the kitchen. She’s in leggings and a zip-up sweatshirt, crouched down, tying her sneakers.
I pause at the bottom of the stairs. “What are you doing?”
She looks up. “Going for a run. What are you doing?”
“Same,” I say. “I didn’t know you were a runner.”
Monty stands and smacks her ass. “I don’t have a booty like this for nothing. Wanna run together?” I approach her, and she pokes my chest. “If you can keep up, old man.”
“Oh, you are about to eat my dirt, Reid.”
We drive to a local forest where I do all my running, and the moment I kill the engine, Monty sprints from the car.
“Cheater!” I bellow and take off after her.
