For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,53

princess and so am I. We’re gonna get us real princess dresses for that day.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tristian

English’s mouth pressed into one hard line. I would not have been surprised if smoke blew out of her nostrils. It was understandable. She’d left for five minutes and returned to a wedding planned by her daughter. “Easton, where did you hear that?”

“Mr. Trishan told me, Mommy. Didn’t you?”

I wondered what guilt looked like as it was written all over me. “I told her I’d like to marry you, but you’re the one who has to decide.”

“Say you will, Mommy! Say yes and then Mr. Trishan can be my daddy.” Easton did a little spin and then stopped. “Can I still get Bucker if you’re my daddy?”

“Bucker?” What was that?

“He’s only a little Bucker. Banana and Geepa will help.”

An exasperated huff exploded out of English. “Hold on a minute. I never said you could get Bucker.”

“Banana and Geepa did.”

“What’s Bucker?” I asked again.

“A puppy. A little one and he can sleep in my bed.”

Easton grinned and honest to God, with her missing front tooth, I had to quench the laugh that threatened. “I don’t mind Bucker.”

English glowered at me and Easton yelled, “Yay. I get Bucker.” She spun around the room and said, “Mr. Trishan, I’m under the rainbow. Are you?”

Not knowing exactly what that meant, I said yes with the hopes it was a good thing.

“Mommy, me and Mr. Trishan are under the rainbow. Are you?”

English looked like a grizzly bear ready to growl. “Not exactly.”

“Why not, Mommy?” Easton tugged on her leg.

“Because Mommy needs to be asked certain things before they’re agreed upon.” English’s eyes, which had turned into chips of blue ice, froze me in my place, only I happily smiled in return. That would probably piss her off even more, but the child was thrilled. That had to count for something.

With a growl, English said, “Would you two go play soccer? And Rey, remember your promise?”

“Right. C’mon, Easton.” They went out, leaving me with a pissed-off English. Fun times.

Through gritted teeth, she said, “I can’t believe you. You are undermining my authority as a parent.” Spit managed to come out with the p.

“Me? How?”

“Bucker. I don’t want a dog. I can barely keep up with things as is.”

“About that, I think your grandparents were the ones who started it.”

“While that may be true, you were the one who put the final nail in the coffin. I told her no to Bucker and now you told her yes to Bucker. Not only that, if I don’t marry you, I’m going to look like a piece of shit to her. She adores you, hangs off every one of your words. If I say no to that, how will that make me look?”

English was right and I knew it. I’d backed her into a corner on purpose, which was the worst thing to do. When the opportunity presented itself, I’d jumped, without looking at it from her perspective.

“I’m so sorry. Not being a parent, I didn’t think about it like that. But you are absolutely right. How can I correct things?”

“You can’t! That’s the problem. Once you say something to her, she never forgets it.”

“What if I take care of Bucker? Would that help?”

“No, because my grandparents have offered to do the same. The problem still exists and she’ll want to bring that dog home and will pester me to death on a daily basis.”

Damn, I really had caused a huge predicament. “Is there any way at all you can think of for me to make this right?”

“Oof. Now I’m getting a migraine.” She massaged her temples.

I pointed to the space between my legs. “Come sit here and let me do that.” Her squint told me she didn’t trust me. “I promise I won’t bite and I am a decent massager.”

“I think the correct word is masseur.”

Finally, she gave in and sat down. I went to work on her tense muscles. “Damn, you’re as tight as a drum.”

“Thanks to you,” she sassed back.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Guess I’m not used to kids and the ramifications of bad ideas.”

“Just be quiet and keep working there.”

After about five minutes, Beck walked in.

“What’s going on?”

“Thanks to you and doofus behind me, I’m getting a migraine.”

I offered up a sheepish look.

“What happened?”

“He told Easton she could get a dog and we were getting married.”

Beck roared with laughter.

“Dad, it’s not funny. You know how persistent she is.”

“Why do you think I’m laughing?”

I wouldn’t interrupt this conversation for anything. My fingers

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