Page 42 of The Coppersmith Farmhouse (Jamison Valley 1)
“No. Outside now.”
“Fine,” she pouted and stormed her little feet down the hallway.
Shaking my head, I told Jess, “She has been a terror since I picked her up from Quail Hollow this afternoon. We’re doing an early bedtime.”
He pushed away from the counter and fitted his big body to my back, wrapping his arms around me and leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“That means we get extra time tonight. Maybe try something other than kissing on the couch.”
My whole body shivered as he lightly kissed my neck in that hidden spot just behind my ear. I was never going to leave my hair down again. I wanted him to have full access to that spot at any time.
“I can think of a few things we could do,” I whispered.
Rowen’s footsteps sounded in the hall as she headed toward the kitchen once again.
“Mommy. Can I—” She stared at Jess holding me for a second and then her eyes darted to the countertop. “What are we eating?”
“Stir-fry.”
“No! I don’t like stir-fry!” she shouted. “Can I have chicken nuggets? Please?”
I shifted out of Jess’s hold. “No, Roe. I’m making dinner for us and we’re all going to eat the same thing. You can have chicken nuggets for lunch tomorrow at school.”
“No! I want them now! I don’t want to eat stir-fry!”
“Rowen Grace Ellars! Stop that yelling,” I said, using my mom voice. “That is enough attitude, young lady. You can either go straight to bed without dinner or stop yelling at me and eat stir-fry with us. Now what’s it going to be?”
She screwed her lips together in a scowl and looked down at her feet. Her arms crossed over her chest as she let out an angry “humph.”
“Well? What’s your choice?”
“Dinner,” she muttered.
“Good choice,” I said. “Now why don’t you help Jess set the table. He can carry the plates and you can put out the silverware.”
We ate dinner in near silence because Rowen was pouting and didn’t pepper us with her typical myriad of questions. Jess and I didn’t have much to say either so we focused on eating. Rowen’s bad mood had infected the atmosphere.
After clearing the dishes, I ordered Rowen to say good night to her kittens but then come back inside.
My jaw was clenched as she stomped down the hall. Tonight my sweet, chatty, curious daughter was nowhere to be found. In her place was a little brat.
“Sorry about Roe.”
“No big deal, Freckles. She’s a kid. They’re allowed to be grumpy now and again.”
“Thanks.” I was grateful he was so patient with my girl.
An hour later, bath time was done and I was walking down the hall to Roe’s room.
“Rowen, time for bed, baby girl. Did you lay out your clothes for the recital tomorrow?”
I came to an abrupt halt the second I stepped inside her door. The floor was covered with a mountain of clothes. Sweaters, dresses, pants, skirts and shirts covered the floor. Clothes that I had once painstakingly hung up in her closet or folded nicely in her dresser.
“What is going—”
I stopped my question when a frustrated scream came from the closet and its last remaining article came flying through the air.
“Rowen. Get your bum out here.”
