Page 49 of Campaign Season
“They’re not little anymore. Coop seems more like a teenager most days than a kid about to turn ten.”
“That he does,” Candace agreed.
“It would help to have more space when everyone’s together. And honestly, I don’t think this family’s done growing.”
Candace arched a brow and patted Jameson’s stomach. “Something you want to tell me?”
“What?”
Candace chuckled. “Didn’t your fortune cookie the other day say, ‘The smartest thing you can do is plan for the unexpected’?”
Jameson pursed her lips. “Cute. You’re supposed to add ‘in bed’ to that,” she said, flipping Candace beneath her.
“What are you doing?”
“Proving how smart I am,” Jameson replied, hopping off the bed.
“Jameson! Where are you going?”
“To get another fortune cookie.”
“What—”
“Gotta prepare for the unexpected. In bed.”
Candace groaned, laughing. “Get back here, you lunatic.”
Jameson jumped back onto the mattress with a thud.
“You are a little crazy, honey,” Candace said.
“Guilty. A little lunacy helps sometimes.”
“Living in your mouse house?”
“Mm. Just living,” Jameson said, pulling Candace back into his arms. “I don’t know if we’ll have more grandkids, but I do know the ones we have will start bringing friends home soon—then boyfriends, girlfriends. Imagine this place in another fifteen, twenty years? There’s no way everyone will fit.”
Candace let out a small sigh. “I hope I’m here to see it.”
“You will be.”
“Jameson.”
“You will be,” Jameson repeated firmly.
“Maybe you should start on that project now.”
“Start remodeling the barn?”
“Why not?”
“I could start designing something,” Jameson said.
“I think you should.”
“You’re not going to lose the next election.”
“Time will tell.”
