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“Okay…what’s going on?”

Gretchen crossed her arms in a casual pose. “Nothing. But…you could ask Waylon to go with you.”

“Waylon.”

“Yeah. We invited him and told him to meet us at the Wood Hollow Ridge. He’ll be there in ten minutes, so…chop-chop.” That was Rhys.

“You weren’t supposed to tell him,” Gretchen huffed. “They were supposed to just meet.”

“Dad’s too suspicious. He doesn’t like surprises, and he’ll never leave if he thinks there’s something fishy going on.”

All true. I wasn’t sure I liked that Rhys’s matter-of-fact description made me sound like a stick-in-the-mud, but I had other things on my mind at the moment.

“Let me get this straight. You invited him on a family hike without telling me, and now you’re ditching us because…why?”

“So you can be alone with him,” Gretchen explained, enunciating every word. “Like on a date.”

My mouth hung open. “A date.”

“Yeah. You like him, don’t you?” Rhys leaned on the sofa, his arms crossed. “Don’t answer that. We already know. Even Grandpa knows. We’re not babies, Dad. We see things.”

“You said Grandpa was wrong, but you text Waylon all the time,” Gretchen chimed in. “So…you must like him.”

“What are you—have you been reading my texts?” I sputtered, a little angry now. And worried. I couldn’t recall any X-rated correspondence, though.

“No! I wouldn’t do that,” she assured me. “It’s just that his name pops up a lot. I’ll get your backpack.”

Rhys met my eyes and gave a lopsided smile. “Are you mad?”

“No, but…”

“But you’re the dad, and we’re not supposed to know about your personal business. It’s so weird. Mom’s always telling us hers. I guess it’s not up to us, but I don’t think you should hide it…like you did when you were seeing Dex and you didn’t think we knew. It’s like…we know, so be real about it. Okay?”

First of all, that was practically a soliloquy. Rhys wasn’t a quiet guy, but he was a typical teenage boy in that he tended to economize his speech into short sentences peppered by grunts.

Second, I had a feeling I’d just been reprimanded by my children.

“Okay, well…” I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. “I like Waylon, but we’re not⁠—”

“Getting married?” he finished impatiently. “We know, Dad. It’s the twenty-first century. You don’t even have to be boyfriends to go on a date. Just be responsible. I mean…that’s kind of what you told me.”

“Is this is a reverse father-son talk?”

Rhys lifted his brows. “Yeah. I guess it is. So…do you like him?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Cool. Then go for a hike.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Oh, and Dad?” He waited till I turned around. “Don’t forget to use a condom.”

I growled without heat. “Okay. You know what? We’re done here.”

Rhys cackled uproariously, falling sideways onto the sofa.

Gretchen walked in holding a backpack. She glanced from Rhys to me and furrowed her brow. “What’s so funny?”