I follow his gaze. “How long do you think the snow will last?”
“Not nearly long enough.” His words and subsequent stare burn into me. “But it looks like you’re stuck with me for at least another day.”
“Yeah. Damn snow.”
Carter comes close, knowing good and well I didn’t mean it. “How long will she be down?”
“It’s hard to say. She’s transitioning away from naps, but I think we wore her out today, so maybe an hour?”
“Christian is at Bug’s.” He stares me down until I catch the full meaning behind his words.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, I watch him set his timer for forty-five minutes. Then… then he pulls me toward his bedroom.
And my already best day is about to get even better.
Chapter Thirty-one
Carter
“It’s been worse than we anticipated,” Lincoln grumbles. “You of all people should know that better than anyone as you’ve always been more involved with the books.”
Present phone call aside, the past five days have been glorious.
At the very least, Kenna, Amelia, and I have eaten breakfast and dinner together, made the necessary repairs to our family of snowmen, and played every card and board game under the sun. Christian participates when he emerges from bed, which is where he insists all teenagers enjoying snow days should be.
My days have been spent at the shop looking forward to the nights at home. Nights where I could pretend we were one big happy family. Cooking. Laughing. Playing. And even after all that good stuff, I got to have the best part—Kenna in my bed for a few hours.
While we’re not technically snowed-in anymore, there is still a lot of accumulation on the ground. Fourteen inches to be exact. Despite that, business hasn’t been as good as I expected. I only towed three cars on Monday, and my siblings reported similar numbers on their duty days, putting us down by nearly half of what business should be on snowy days.
Hence the current phone call ruining my perfectly good Wednesday evening.
“I’m aware,” I say into the phone perched next to the sink as I dry the dinner dishes.
“You still think it’s nothing to worry about?”
“I never said I wasn’t worried. I knew we’d take a hit, I just didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“Those motherfuckers,” Linc blasts. “Why, of all the times and all the places, did it have to be here and now? Just when we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. If we can’t make the balloon payment and have to refinance at today’s rates, we’re fucked.”
“I’ll go to the bank soon. See what our options are.”
“Why don’t you sound more upset about it? This is our business, Carter. Our livelihood. Our goddamn future.”
I put away the last dish. “Iamupset. I’m just not dwelling on it.”
There’s silence and I glance at the phone to make sure I haven’t lost the call.
“It’s the girl,” he says. “Isn’t it?”
“Mind if we finish this conversation at work tomorrow? I have things to do.”
“Things like the girl?”
“Goodbye, Linc.”
I end the call, and turn around to see Kenna, arms full of tonight’s games, standing in the kitchen doorway. She walks to the table, sets down the games, and frowns. “How bad is it?”
Uncorking the bottle of wine we opened last night, I take it and two glasses to the table. “How bad is what?”
