Free Under Contract (The GEG Series) by Jacquelyn Ayres

purred, baby?” Sexy voice ... damn him!
    “Oh, did Kitty purr.” I’ll give you sexy, bitch.
    “Why, baby?” Even sexier. He’s killing me.
    “Mitch ... stop.” The ache in me is unbearable.
    “Morale is down ... he misses Kitty. We need to have a staff meeting, stat.”
    “Hey, you haven’t yelled at me for calling you Mitch .” I have a way with impeccably timing what I mention.
    “I’m picking my battles.”
    “Oh yeah? What battle are you picking next?” I smile as I switch lanes.
    “I’m going to have a huge battle with Kitty tonight,” he says.
    “How come?” Oh, the aching ...
    “She’s getting out of line.”
    “You gonna put her in her place, baby?” My sexy, seductive voice beams in all its glory.
    “Jesus, Charlotte ... I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you might split into two.” There’s urgency in his voice.
    “Don’t worry, baby—I have nine lives.” I give him a smooch sound and hang up. After a beat, my phone rings. It’s Mitch. I hit ignore and smile.
    Within no time, I’m getting off exit three in New Hampshire. It’s like every neuron in my body can sense that we’re almost home. I feel calmer, clearer. Everything’s back in its place, surrounded by an invisible safety net—my comfort zone. I pull up to my brick-red Colonial and smile as the kids wave to me from the window. I navigate around the bikes in the driveway and pull up to the garage. Turning off the car, I take a deep breath before grabbing my bag and heading in.
    “There’s my little girl!” Dad barks out his standard greeting for me.
    “Hi, Daddy, how’s the fort holding up?” I smile as I walk into his arms.
    “Well, we’ve got ‘Giggles’ dancing to The Wiggles in the living room. No fever today. Brogan was a champ and got his homework done straight away. He’s setting the table now. And Bennett is assisting Gramma in the kitchen. Charley ... his speech is improving every time I see him, I swear. It’s because you’re a great mom. I’m so proud of you.” He kisses my cheek and hugs me a little harder. I suddenly feel the urge to cry. If he only knew what I’ve done, it would break his heart for sure.
    “Thank you, Daddy. Lucky for them, I have wonderful parents who I still learn from every day.” I take his arm as he leads me into the house from the mudroom. “Mmm ... Mom, smells good!” I kiss her on the cheek, then turn to Bennett. “Wutcha makin’, bacon?” I ask and sign to him.
    “I’m nont bacon! I’m Bennint!” He smiles up at me with his huge dimples.
    “Ben—net,” I say slowly.
    “Ben—nint,” he replies.
    “Getting there, buddy!” I kiss him again.
    Brogan walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom, can I sleep over Colby’s house on Friday?”
    “Hi to you too, pal!” I tap the bill of his cap. “Hats off in the house. Where are your glasses?”
    “Uh,” he says, taking his hat off. “They broke, like, into smithereens. I’m sorry, Mom.” He looks down and my heart aches. At nine years old, he looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Too many nights this guy has snuck up on me when I was having a good cry. He rubs my back and tells me everything’s going to be okay. What nine-year-old boy does that?
    “It’s okay Broge, we’ll go tomorrow and get you a new pair.” I pull him to me for a hug and kiss his messy, dirty-blond hair.
    “But, Mom,” he whispers, “how can we do that?”
    “Well, I guess I’ll make my announcement now,” I say.
    “You got the job!” Dad throws his hands up in the air.
    “I did, and with an advancement, so go ahead, Happy, and give us a jig!” I laugh because Happy is already ten steps into the little jig he does when he hears great news, or just gets excited about something. Everybody’s laughing at him as he twirls me around. God, I love my dad!
    I started calling him “Happy” when I was around Brogan’s age because he just always was! He’s always laughing, singing, and dancing. Everybody