Leo (Preston Brothers #3) - Jay McLean Page 0,115

you going?” Papa asks me, leaning forward to look past Leo.

“Dentist. It’s just a standard checkup.”

His eyes light up. “I go with you.”

I shake my head. “No, Papa,” I plead, but he’s already halfway to the front door.

“I get changed and go with you. Don’t leave without me.”

I sigh, resigned. “Fine. But hurry up.”

Once he’s back in the house, Leo turns to me, both forearms resting on my shoulders. “Why don’t you want him to go with you?”

My eye-roll makes him chuckle. “He goes to flirt with the nurse there. She’s, like, half his age.”

Leo busts out a laugh.

“Pervy old man,” I mumble.

“Nah. He’s just havin’ fun,” he says, then drops his arms to sign for the dumpster.

“We’ll be back on Monday to collect it,” Brent Silva says, and Leo grunts in response. Brent fixes his eyes on me. “What’s good, Mia Mac?”

I shrug. “Same old.” And then I shift closer to Leo because this situation is awkward, and it’s not one I ever thought I’d find myself in. Brent works at the hardware store where Leo rented the dumpster, and Brent and I also went on one date, last year. It was the date that made me realize I’ll never be able to feel anything for anyone else the way I feel for Leo. When I went on the date, Leo had been back home visiting his family, and when Brent brought me home, Leo was on the porch waiting for me. It was the first time he told me he loved me. And I was so afraid of everything it meant that I left the next day.

“Okay, let’s go,” Papa says, coming out of the house.

“You’re in your church clothes!” I laugh out. In khaki slacks, suspenders, button-up shirt, and a pale-yellow bow tie I sent him a few months ago, Papa looks dapper and way too overdressed for a visit to the dentist.

Beside me, Leo chuckles. “Looking good, sir.”

Papa slips on a flat cap and looks up at Leo with a mischievous grin. “Hat or no hat?”

“Papa!” I whine.

His eyes snap to mine. “I’m asking The Boy, baba!” Then he goes back to Leo. “Hat or no hat?”

“I say hat,” Leo says, nodding. “It’s a classic look. The ladies will love it.”

“Just one lady,” Papa jokes before going down the steps, bow tie, flat cap and all. “Okay, baba, we go! The boy has work to do!”

I kiss Leo quickly. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time,” he says. “I’ll be in the barn all dang day.”

Papa stands at the dentist’s reception office, one arm resting on the counter while he strikes up a flirtatious conversation with the woman sitting at the desk. She plays along, amusing him. I roll my eyes when our gazes lock, and then I smile, because really? What can I do?

We only have to wait a few minutes before the dental hygienist, Miss Annika, comes out of a long hallway and calls my name. Papa perks up at the sight of her, and I get it. I do. Miss Annika is beautiful. The kind of beauty that’s so timeless, even boys Holden’s age like coming to this dentist. Holden included. Papa turns to me. “Let’s go, baba.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re coming in with me?”

He nods. “Of course. You’re my baby. I take care of you.”

Bulldust. I want to call him out, but I won’t. He likes to be in there because Miss Annika’s in there. Containing my giggle, I get up and follow after Papa, who’s right behind Miss Annika, down the hallway and into the last room on the left.

I’ve been coming to the same dentist my entire life, so when Mr. Anderson sees me, his eyes widen a tad. “Mia Kovács! Look at you all grown up!”

Smiling, I climb into the dentist’s chair. “Hi, Mr. Anderson.” Kirk Anderson has been the town dentist since even before my dad was born. He doesn’t like being called sir and calling him doctor is even worse. I’m not sure why, and I don’t think anyone’s ever asked.

Mr. Anderson and Miss Annika ask me the same questions most people in town do. Things like what I’m doing now, how my dad is, how I like New York, and then we’re done with the small talk and ready for business. The dentist lowers the back of the chair, orders me to open my mouth, and digs right the heck in. Miss Annika is beside him, handing over whatever tools or instruments he asks for,

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