Page 19 of Make Your Shot
“Is it that obvious?” she questions, tilting her head to the side.
“Yes,” I laugh, shaking my head as I finish packing my bag. “It’s blatantly obvious.”
“Well, shit,” she mutters, then chuckles. “Okay. I’ll find someone, but I don’t want anything more than a casual hookup.”
“I’ll be sending you all the good dick vibes.”
Willow lets out a breath and presses her palms and fingers together, holding them to her nose as she closes her eyes. “Dear Lord, she has spoken. Please send all the good dick.”
“Big ones too!” I giggle while zipping shut my bag.
“Onlybig ones. Amen.”
“Amen,” I concur. My shoulders shake with laughter as Willow opens her eyes and drops her hands. “You’re insane and I’m going to miss you.”
Willow climbs off the bed, walking over as she wraps her arms around me, pulling me in for a hug. “Okay, well I am only like an hour away, so we are still going to see each other.”
“I promise I will come visit as soon as I get my schedule coordinated with Caleb’s.”
Willow gives me a squeeze then releases me, taking a step back. “I can come visit too, ya know.”
“If you don’t text me as soon as you get there, we’re fighting.”
Willow’s head tips back, blonde hair falling down along her spine. “Girl, please,” she laughs, shaking her head as she looks back at me. “As if we ever go a day without talking.
“Okay, true.” I grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder as we both turn toward the door. Willow heads out first with me right behind her. After we drop our bags by the front door, we head into the kitchen where we find my father sitting at the counter.
He adjusts his glasses, tearing his gaze away from his notepad in front of him to look up at me. “Are you heading to Ford’s house?”
I clench my jaw and nod my head. I told my father about the arrangement after I came home from Caleb’s the other day and had to ask for his lawyer to draw up the contract. He was extremely supportive. While I expected nothing less knowing my dad, I do think his supportiveness haseverything to do with the soft spot he has for Caleb Ford.
“Yep. Willow is getting ready to head to Sugar Hill and then I’ll be on my way.”
My father looks between Willow and me, then he glances at his watch. “I’ll walk you both out.”
My father clears his throat as he closes the distance across the kitchen, his stride long. He pauses in front of the two of us, towering above. He’s well over a foot taller than both Willow and me. He’s fit and always has been. He played hockey in his younger years and with the help of a village, he played professional hockey through his twenties before retiring at thirty.
“I’m planning on leaving within the next hour,” my father chimes in, his voice gruff. He looks at Willow. “Can you do me a favor and stop by our lake house and check to make sure it hasn’t burned down or something? Maybe bring in the mail? Mia can give you the code to get into the house.”
“Yeah, sure,” she says with a nod and a smile. “And I already have the code.”
“Okay, great.” My father steps over to me, pulling me in for a hug. “Thank you for doing this for Caleb. I’ll text you when we land.”
“Okay,” I say, hugging him back. “Safe travels.”
“Love you,” he says, kissing the top of my head before releasing me. “Thanks again, Willow,” he says to her, dipping his chin and looking down his nose at her. “Mia can give you my number so you can let me know if there are any issues while I’m gone.”
Willow’s lips pull into a grin. “Yes, Mr. Landry.”
The muscle in my father’s jaw twitches and he rolls his eyes. “Drive safe, both of you.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and heads up the stairs to the second floor.
I cut my eyes at Willow, and wait until my father’s footsteps are out of earshot.
“What?” she asks with a shrug, a coy look on her face.
“I have nothing to say,” I huff, rolling my eyes as I turn around and head through the foyer. “I’ll text you his number.”
“Hey, wait,” she calls out after me, grabbing her own suitcase as she follows me through the foyer and out the front door. The wheels of her suitcase clatter as it plunks down each step off the porch. “I’m just messing around, okay? I’m sorry.”
