Page 61 of Taking the Pitch
I do the same, then look at Lucy. “So, do you think you could help?”
“Absolutely, tell me what you need.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
judd
“Millie is Amelia Morgan, huh?”Kessler’s voice booms from behind me.
Dad and I turn around from the workbench at the sound of his voice.
“Yep.”
“And you didn’t think to mention that at all when you were asking me or Lucy for advice?”
I shrug and turn back to the workbench. “Would it have changed your advice?”
He sidles up next to us, looking at the new project Dad is working on for the twins’ nursery. The one he’s going to surprise Lucy with after we learn the genders of the babies. “Wow, Dad. These look amazing. Lucy is going to love this.”
Dad carved two baseball diamonds out of slabs of wood off an old tree that fell on their property last year. There’s a space in the middle for their names once they’re picked.
“And to answer your question, no. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference. But why the secrecy?”
I turn and lean a hip against the workbench. “I’m not really sure. It was just something I wanted to keep to myself until I got to know her better.”
“And now that you have, you’ve decided to throw her straight into the fire?”
One side of my mouth quirks up. “Something tells me she can handle herself with Mom and Lucy. Plus, we’re justfriends.No fire with friendship.”
“Mmm hmm. Let me know how that works for you.” He turns to Dad. “Wanna take bets on how long it is before they’re dating?”
Dad finishes putting his tools away and turns to me, gripping his chin like he’s contemplating something. “What’s the ante?”
The fuck?
“Dad, you’re betting on my love life? I thought you liked me more than that?” I say, acting offended.
Dad claps me on the shoulder. “Yeah, but Kessler’s giving me grandbabies. He’s in the top spot now,” he jokes.
Kessler tips his head back and forth in thought. “How about if you win, I will pay for your and Mom’s next trip?”
I groan, knowing Dad will definitely be taking that bet now.
“And if you win?”
“Babysitting for a month, whenever we need it.”
Dad holds out his hand to Kessler, and they shake. “I feel like that’s a win-win for me, son. I’ll take that bet.”
Dicks.
“So how long?” Kessler asks.
“A week.”
Kessler nods and looks back at me, tapping his chin. I flip him off, earning a laugh. “I’ll say four days. Something tells me little Juddy has game.”
“There’s nothing little about me,” I tell him, throwing my arm around his neck and getting him into a headlock. “I’m also taller than you, dick.”
