Page 29 of The Sweet Life

“We can’t do this. Your dad—”

“Is at this moment sitting in the living room watching Gotham, a YouTube chess channel on his iPad, in the hope of discovering a strategy to beat me. And before you ask, hewon’t hear us because he’ll have his headset on, pretending he’s watching the PGA Tour on YouTube instead of Gotham.” He brushed his lips across hers. “Okay?”

She wrapped her legs around his waist. “Okay.”

“Gia Rosetti, have I told you lately how much I like you?”

She smiled against his mouth. “You did. Last night when we were having phone sex.”

He drew his head back. “Is that what we were doing?”

“I think so. I’ve never had phone sex before.” Their eyes met, and she saw something in his gaze that made her groan. “If you’re going to tell me you had phone sex with Cami when you were seventee—”

He shut her up with a kiss. At first, she was annoyed, but she thought that had more to do with the idea of him having phone sex with her sister than with him cutting her off with a kiss—because Flynn Monroe kissed better than any man she knew.

“Dad, answer the side door. I have my hands full!” Willow yelled from outside the house.

Gia sucked in a shocked gasp. The dad in question stumbled, slamming Gia’s back and head into the pantry’s shelves. “Ow,” she cried, covering her head with her arms as boxes rained down around her.

“Hang on to your horses,” Amos yelled, sounding much closer than the living room. “Your dad’s got his hands full too. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Madonna santa! You said he had his headphones on and was watching chess on YouTube!” Gia whisper-shouted at Flynn, who was trying not to laugh.

Close to tears, she swatted him. “It’s not funny,” she said, then began frantically brushing fiber cereal from her hair.

“I know.” He helped her rid herself of the crumbs before taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He kissed it. “I’m sorry, honey. I had no idea Willow was coming over.”

The door opened, and Flynn’s father stood there, leaning on his walker. “You should have asked me. I could have told you she was coming over.”

“Don’t worry, Gramps. Cami just pulled in. She’ll let me in,” Willow yelled through the side door.

Gia made a pained sound in her throat, and both Monroe men looked at her quizzically.

“Why don’t you sit in the living room and visit with my dad?” Flynn guided her from the pantry as though he wasn’t sure if she was about to explode or break down.

“I told you this was a bad idea, but did you listen to me? Oh no, you—” He kissed her to shut her up again. She pushed at his chest. “Flynn, you can’t keep doing that, and your father is standing right there.” Her cheeks heated, and she gave Amos a small, embarrassed smile. “Hi, Mr. Monroe. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. I, uh, brought you some chicken soup. I’m sure your son”—she gave Flynn a look—“can heat it up for you.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Flynn said, taking her by the hand and walking her into the living room. He gently pushed her into a comfortable armchair.

“Hey, Gramps. You’re looking much better today.”

Gia briefly closed her eyes and sank down in the chair.

“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?”

“Don’t even.” Gia shook her head. “Compliments aren’t getting you out of this one.”

“I love your face.”

Unexpected tears welled in her eyes. “Flynn, don’t.”

“It’s true, and I don’t care who knows. And that includes our daughter,” he said, moving to the ottoman across from her when Willow walked out of the kitchen. “Hey, kiddo. Look who stopped by.”

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Willow said, smiling as she walked over to give her a hug.

“I made a batch of chicken soup and brought some over for your grandfather.” She stood. “I should probably get going, though. Let all of you have a visit.”

“I insist you stay and have some soup with us, Gia. You just got here,” Flynn said. He was an easygoing man but far from a pushover, and she saw signs of that in the firm set of his jaw. Admittedly, she found Flynn’s alpha-male persona attractive when it periodically made an appearance. There were times when it even made her pulse race. This was not one of those times.

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