Chapter 8 #2
Sean was right behind her, taking a little more care with the stroller on the uneven ground. He settled beside her as Monica leaned her head back.
“That was a workout,” she said. “Who knew that pushing that stroller would take that much extra energy?”
Sean raised his hand, and Monica elbowed him in the ribs. “Smart aleck.”
Sean leaned forward. “I’ll tell you what I didn’t know. I didn’t know that Mom watching him while I run would get me so out of practice. I’m gonna need a nap before I even taste the turkey.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, it’s almost ten. Don’t make yourself late on my account.”
“Late for what?”
“You must have someplace to be later.”
“No, why would I?”
Sean cocked his head. “It’s Thanksgiving.”
“And I have the whole day all to myself.”
“You’re spending the day alone?”
“Well, yeah.” Monica lifted a shoulder. “I mean...I had an invitation or two, but I didn’t want to impose.
I have the day all planned out. I have a new book to read, and there’s a nap in my future.
I have a turkey and dressing frozen meal for dinner, and I made a loaf of my mom’s pumpkin bread for dessert.
After I eat, I’ll probably stream a couple of movies while I put up my Christmas tree. ”
Sean looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye. “Absolutely not. You’ll come have dinner at our house.”
“Sean, I can’t do that. I appreciate the invitation, but your mom—”
“My mom will have both our heads if she finds out you spent the day alone with a TV dinner.”
Monica crossed her arms, stubbornness taking root. It was a nice invitation and all, but it felt like a pity invite. “Well, I’m not going to tell her.”
Sean’s grin bordered on snarky. “We’re eating at two, but if you aren’t on our doorstep by one, I’ll tell her. She’ll be upset. You don’t want to upset my mom, do you?”
“That’s blackmail.”
“Is it working?”
Monica narrowed her eyes at him, attraction forgotten in this moment of battle. “Sean, she’s not going to want an extra person to feed on such short notice.” She cringed at the whiny tone in her voice.
Sean didn’t seem to notice. “Trust me, there’ll be enough food for an army. Wrap up your pumpkin bread and bring it with you if you’re worried.”
Rustling drew her attention to the stroller.
Sean stood. “Look, I need to get him home for a diaper change and a snack. I’ll see you at one. Don’t be late.”
Without another word, Sean pushed the stroller to his vehicle and began the task of packing up.
Ten minutes later he pulled out of the park, leaving Monica sitting on the bench. Was he presumptuous or just being gracious? The answer didn’t really matter. For better or worse he’d managed to Shanghai her whole day.
***
WHEN THE DOORBELL RANG, Sean was standing by the door. He knew he’d won and tried to hide his self-satisfied smile when he answered.
Monica’s expression did not reflect his happiness.
He ushered her into the house with a bow and a sweeping arm. “Welcome, m’lady.”
She scooted past him. “I’m not speaking to you.”
“I don’t care as long as you’re here.”
“Pompous...”
“Stubborn...”
His mom’s appearance cut their bickering short. She edged around him and gathered Monica into a hug. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’m so sorry to impose, but Sean wouldn’t listen to me.”
“You are not an imposition.” She motioned to the foil-wrapped package in Monica’s hands. “What do you have there?”
Monica held it out. “Pumpkin bread. My mom’s recipe. I hope y’all like it.”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful. Now sit and make yourself at home.”
“Nope. I insist that you put me to work. It’ll make me feel better about barging in.”
Before Mom could answer, Kinsley stepped into the room. “Mom, your bread dough is about to outgrow its bowl. What do...?” Kinsley squealed and clapped her hands, rushing to the entry. “Monica, I didn’t know you were coming. What a nice surprise.”
They hugged. “My goodness,” Monica said. “I think you’ve gotten bigger since Sunday.”
Kinsley stepped back and rubbed her belly. “Feels like it. I can’t wait till February.”
“I need to get back to the kitchen.” Sean’s mom gave him a little shove toward the den. “Shoo, you’re missing your game. Girls, come with me. We’ll gossip about the men while we cook. That always makes the time pass quicker.”
Sean watched them go before rejoining Benjamin and his dad in the den.
The big-screen TV took up a lot of the far wall and could be seen from every seat in the room.
He reclaimed his chair as the two teams took the field.
A quick look at the banner at the bottom of the screen showed his team was still in the lead. “What’d I miss?”
“Your guys made a touchdown,” Benjamin said. “Price you pay for chasing skirts.”
The words rolled over Sean like a steamroller. “I’m gonna—”
“Boys.”
Dad’s single word was a growl, but it was enough to get his point across.
Sean sipped his soda, allowing the drink to cool his throat. Chasing skirts. What was he supposed to do? Allow Monica to spend the day alone?
Why did being friends with a woman have to equal something more?
He settled back in the chair as the game unfolded. He really was just being a friend, but he couldn’t help but notice how comfortably Monica had seemed to blend into his family.