Page 103 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“Hey, baby, do you know where my–oh.” He stops and stares. “Sorry, didn’t realise you were on the phone.”

“Wait! Who’s that calling Harrison baby?”

I turn back to the phone screen and see Dad tackle Pops, practically climbing over him to snatch the phone. The screen flashes all over the place, and I see the ceiling, the lamp, the floor, both the dogs curled up in front of the fireplace, and then, finally, Dad’s face fills the screen.

“Harrison, move out of the way. I can’t see.”

I sigh. “Sam, these are my dads. Dad, Pops, this is Sam.”

“Sam…Sam,” Dad frowns for a moment as he thinks, then he breaks into a wide smile. “Wait…Sam the psychic PI?”

“Yes.” Sam grins and leans in closer. “That is my full name.”

Pops cackles, and I sigh again. “Sam, please don’t encourage them.”

“So, Sam,” Dad says. “May I call you Sam, or do you prefer Mr The Psychic PI?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh my goddess, you’re both ridiculous.”

“Sam’s fine.”

“Yes, he is,” I hear Pops mutter.

“Someone kill me now,” I whisper.

“So, Sam.” Dad ignores me. “Harrison tells us you’re gifted. Is it just psychometry that’s your specialty or do you have other abilities? And what are they?”

“For heaven’s sake, Dad, why don’t you just ask him his inside leg measurement while you’re at it?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got that covered, honey.”

I glance at Sam, who’s grinning at me.

“What?” I say irritably.

“You been talking to your folks about me, Prickles?”

I scowl at him. “I might have mentioned how annoying you are.”

“Prickles? Awww,” Dad croons. “That’s so adorable.”

“Okay, well, I’ll just grab my–”

I watch him bend down and scoop his jeans off the floor, and when I turn back to my phone, both my dads’ faces are practically smooshed to the screen.

Perverts, I mouth to them, and they both snort.

“Why don’t I go and get started on breakfast while you talk to your dads?” Sam offers, dropping a sweet kiss on my cheek.

I can feel the goofy smile tugging at my mouth as I watch him walk out of the room and then I catch myself. Ugh, I’m the one being ridiculous now. Blowing out a breath, I turn back to my dads and brace myself for the inevitable.

“I know we never really talked about safe sex,” Dad begins, and I can feel the tips of my ears burning. “You didn’t seem interested in having–”

“Dad, keep your voice down,” I hiss, mortified. Thank god Sam is now in the kitchen and can’t hear this conversation.

“What?” Dad blinks. “Do you have any idea how many of my patients stroll into my clinic with STIs?”

“Yes,” I reply dryly. “Because the Devonshire countryside is such a hotbed of debauchery.”