Page 34 of Pucking With My Head

Well, keep going, then. You only teach two days a week. We can work around that. Trust me, Bethany, I’m prepared to beg on my hands and knees. We are swamped with work, and our sweet, lovely, precocious child is being a thorn in our side and hates everyone except for us three and you.

Bethany:

I would say she has good taste, but she likes Cullen…

Jensen:

I mean…you’re not wrong.

Bethany:

When do you need me to start?

Jensen:

Oh, thank the lord. ASAP. Joey’s school isn’t within walking distance of the house, so I may have bought a car for you to use to pick her up.

My eyebrows rose so high that they nearly disappeared into my hairline as I stared at the screen, trying to comprehend what Jensen had just said. Did he buy me a car? Why on earth would he purchase a vehicle for me?

Bethany:

Excuse me?

Jensen:

Well, actually, it was Gideon who decided to buy the car because it was a safe vehicle, and he wanted something with high safety ratings for you to use to pick up Joey.

Bethany:

I haven’t even said yes to babysitting her yet.

Jensen:

I was hoping, praying, dreaming, making sacrifices to the gods to try and make this happen.

Bethany:

Text me the details. I have a class I need to get to.

Jensen:

Thank you, you amazing, stunning creature!

Laughing, I stowed my phone away in the bag and made my way down the hallway to my last class of the day.

It probably wasn’t smart getting more entangled with this pack, but for some reason, the thought of saying no never even crossed my mind.

Two days later, Gideon’s secretary stopped by my dorm room. She handed me the keys to a sleek SUV that was waiting outside, as well as a house key and the security code for the pack house. I wasn’t sure how I felt having so much information on how to enter and exit the pack house, but if it was for Joey, I would do it.

“Bethany! Are you watching me?” Joey asked excitedly as I pulled up outside her school. I had to show my ID to prove who I was in order to pick her up, but Gideon had added me to the approved pickup list.

“I am,” I confirmed. “Just one or two nights a week when your dads are working.”

She bounced on the spot. “Yes! I told them I would only be good if it was you.” She smiled conspiringly.

“Get in the car.” I chuckled. “I’m making tacos for dinner.”

Her eyes widened as she scrambled into the seat. “With lots of sour cream?”

---