Page 16 of Ugly Duckling (Content Advisory #6)

Ten

Maybe the grass is greener over there because you’re not over there fucking it up.

—Gunner’s secret thoughts

GUNNER

“And why do you think I need this?”

I hated this part of the job.

The superintendent of Gale Roberts Independent School District looked at me like I was a nut job.

Maybe if she buried her face in the sand, nothing bad would happen.

“You do know why I’m here, right?” I asked. “The district voted for me to make this place safer for their children.”

She scoffed. “These are elementary-age kids. Nothing like that will ever happen here.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“About what?”

“You think that the bad things only happen at high schools?” I asked. “Think again.”

“A five-year-old isn’t going to come to school with a gun.”

“Actually,”—a familiar voice sounded from behind me—“there was a teacher who’s literally fighting her way through court right now that was shot in the face by her elementary-age student.

She even told the school officials that she thought her student had a gun, and they did nothing.

” She narrowed her eyes at the superintendent.

“Kind of like you’re doing right now. Burying your head in the sand won’t make the threat go away. ”

“And who are you?” the superintendent sneered.

“I work with him,” Sutton lied. “I’m his social media person. Smile.”

The superintendent, Mrs. Waters she’d ordered me to call her, smiled as if she hadn’t just been fighting me on every little thing. “Oh, I didn’t know this would be a photo op.”

This bitch…

“If you’re okay now, I’ll just let my crew get back to work,” I grumbled.

“Oh, I guess that’s fine.” Mrs. Waters now played the part perfectly.

Maybe I should’ve threatened to record the event an hour ago when she started bitching about why we were here.

The crew that was working on the GR ISD with me today looked relieved to be able to get to work.

They were paid by the job, not by the hours that they worked, so their entire goal was to get this done and move on to the next job.

They performed their jobs well, but sometimes their tempers left a lot to be desired.

I guess that was what happened when you hired all former military and former cops onto your crews.

“Ramsey,” I said as we made eye contact. “Take lunch when it gets here. The district is supposed to provide it for us. Call me if you have any issues. I’m making a stop at a few other job sites today, so I might not be back.”

Ramsey nodded his head. “Thanks for dealing with that on your day off. I know that you have Lottie today.”

“Speaking of Lottie,” I said as I walked to my truck and opened up the back passenger door.

She looked up from where she was watching The Lorax from my iPad resting on the middle console and said, “Door!”

I chuckled as I closed the door, rounding the hood at the same time that I cracked my fingers.

“What was that?” Sutton asked.

I felt her body close in before she’d said a word, I was that aware of her.

“It’s cold, and she doesn’t like the cold,” I explained as I turned around and took her in.

Today she was in a pair of black leggings that showed off her ankles, tennis shoes that were bright orange and very eye-catching, and a sweatshirt that was two sizes too big.

One that looked a whole lot like the one I’d given her in high school during a soccer tournament.

“Is that mine?” I wondered.

It was the flush on her face that had my suspicions confirmed. “I…no…I didn’t think I’d see you this morning. It’s one of my favorites because it’s so soft.”

I found myself smiling despite my shitty morning.

“It’s fine. It probably won’t fit anymore anyway,” I teased.

Her face stayed a tomato red.

“Where do you want to go eat?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

I allowed it, but I didn’t forget.

“Hate to break it to you, but Lottie only eats two places, so we don’t really have a lot of options. We can go to Chick-fil-A or El Sombrero. She eats chicken nuggets, macaroni, white queso, and tortillas. Everything else is iffy at best.”

“She’s that picky?” Sutton asked.

“You have no idea,” I grumbled. “I’ve tried everything that I can to get her to eat healthier, but I swear, the harder I try, the worse she gets. She used to be much better at this eating thing, but she’s become more assertive about what she likes best.”

“I’ll try to help you with that,” she offered.

“You and every other person in our lives,” I mumbled. “Nothing is working.”

She tossed her keys into the air, then caught them again. “I’m down for either one of those.”

“Follow me,” I suggested.

I waited for her to get to her car—and checked out her perfect ass as she did—before I got into my work truck and headed for the closest Chick-fil-A.

When we got there, I waited with Lottie beside the front door until Sutton was at my side.

Sutton waved at Lottie, who loudly yelled, “Hi!”

Sutton grinned. “Hi. How are you?”

“Great!” she chirped. “I love ick-fil-a!”

“Me too,” Sutton declared. “They have a really yummy salad here that I really love.”

Lottie tilted her head before she said, “Ewww.”

I snorted and caught the door for Sutton, who walked in front of me into the restaurant.

She stood directly in front of me in line before looking at Lottie who was perched on my hip and saying, “I’ll bet you’ll love my salad. It’s so good. Even my dad likes it, and he only eats steak and mashed potatoes if he can help it.”

The two of them talked for the next several minutes as we waited for the line to go down.

By the time that we’d ordered, paid and were sitting down near the play area, they hadn’t once stopped to catch their breath.

Lottie took off, yanking her shoes off as she went, and throwing them to the ground wherever she happened to be as she moved.

I got up, collected the shoes, and let her into the play area before returning to Sutton.

“Is the salad actually any good?”

Sutton smiled and crossed her arms over her chest before bringing her legs up to come to a rest against the table.

“Yes,” she answered. “It’s fairly decent for a fast-food salad. To be quite truthful, I’d choose it over the salad I’d make at home. Even some restaurants. Nothing is better than a Salt Grass salad, though. Sometimes I go to Salt Grass and buy a pint of ranch so I can have salads at home.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had one there,” I admitted. “We’ll have to go sometime.”

Her eyes flickered up to meet mine before they dropped to my chest. “Maybe.”

My lips quirked.

She was nervous.

I knew she would be.

We’d had two really great days of sex before she’d been forced to leave, and I’d needed to return to my fatherly duties.

When she’d left, there’d been no awkwardness between us.

But she’d also had three weeks to overthink everything that she’d done.

No way would she be able to come back completely confident after the childhood that she’d had.

We both sat down at the only open spot that was as close to the play area that we could get, and sat in silence watching Lottie play.

“I feel like all of that stuff in there is completely unsanitary,” she admitted as she watched one kid cough so much that some red juice had spewed up with his cough. “I mean, that’s disgusting. And the kids are just sliding down the slide straight into it.”

“At least that other little boy cleaned it up with his butt before Lottie came down,” I admitted. “But just sayin’, Lottie puked in the ball pit at the trampoline park last week when we went to a birthday party there. I don’t think they did anything besides clean the barf off a few foam balls.”

“That’s utterly disgusting, and I thank you for warning me ahead of time in case I ever find myself in a situation where I can get into a ball pit.”

I snorted. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Really. I appreciate knowing.” She turned to me.

“I have eight clients already. After this, I’m going to drop all this stuff off at your place, and then I’m going to go get some work done.

It’s highly likely that I won’t be home until late.

Like midnight. I made all the appointments for this evening and tomorrow morning before ten. ”

“That many dead people want manicures?”

“You have no idea,” she said as a man wearing a red shirt and khakis rolled up with our food. “I’ll go get Lottie.”

She got up while the guy was still putting the food down onto our table.

I thanked him and watched, enraptured, as she went up to Lottie who was in the net thing above her head and called out to her.

Usually, either Audric or I were the only ones that could get her out of the play area, but whatever Sutton said to her caused Lottie to squeal in excitement and tumble out of the netting.

Sutton caught her before she could trip and fall on her face, pulling her up into her arms before she turned and marched out of the play area.

“What sorcery did you just perform?” I asked as Lottie scrambled into the seat next to Sutton.

Sutton was unfazed as she replied with, “I just told her that she could trade her toy in for ice cream if she didn’t open it.”

I frowned. “She can?”

“Yeah.” Her brows rose. “Shouldn’t you as a parent know that kind of thing?”

“I usually just buy her the ice cream and don’t question it,” I admitted. “The toy is usually pretty lame. Ice cream is way better.”

“Ouse cream is betta,” Lottie said around a bite of chicken nugget.

“No chewing with your mouth open, darlin’,” I teased.

Lottie mimed closing her mouth and locking it with a key.

I winked at her and started on my own food, watching the two interact through the rest of the short lunch.

Lottie finished all of her food, including two bites of salad off of Sutton’s plate.

“Ewww,” Lottie groaned as she spit out the tomato.

“Here,” Sutton offered. “Try it without the tomato, and with this little bite of egg and chicken nugget. It’s better.”

Lottie took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Okay, betta.”

Seriously, miracles were being performed here, and I had no clue how.

“Seriously, what sorcery is this?” I shook my head as I watched them finish their food.

“Just two girls trying new things,” Sutton teased. “Isn’t that right, Lottie?”

“Right!”

Again with the high-pitched scream.

Seriously, did little girls ever have any other octave?

“Almost time for that ice cream. You have two more chicken nuggets left.” Sutton pointed at Lottie’s masticated chicken nuggets.

“Ohhhhkay.” Lottie snatched the half-chewed nuggets and tossed them into her mouth.

Sutton started to gather trash, and I said, “I’ll go exchange this out.”

While I was gone, they’d completely cleaned off the entire table, giving me ample room to set my brownie, milkshake, and two ice cream cones down.

“Which one do you want?” I asked Sutton as I handed Lottie her cone.

She immediately started going to town while Sutton looked at my food and said, “Which one do you want the least?”

“That’s definitely not what I asked you.” I snorted. “Pick one.”

She went for the shake before changing her mind and heading for the plain vanilla cone.

I handed her the shake, then brought the cone toward my mouth and took a bite.

She blinked. “Did you just bite that ice cream with your teeth?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “Why?”

“Because only psychopaths do that.” She looked at Lottie, literally doing the same thing.

“I guess the psychopath gene is passed down.” She scoffed. “Like those dimples and that curly hair. Even if your hair is short enough to hide those curls right now.”

My dimples came out to play when I smiled back at her. “She does look a lot like me, huh?”

“Like you copy pasted her,” she agreed. “I imagine that they wouldn’t have been able to hide her lineage from you for very long. She looks a lot like you.”

“The only thing that she has of her mom’s is the fair skin and hair color. The rest is all me,” I agreed.

“Play?”

I looked down at my little girl. “You’re done?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“You have ten minutes,” I said. “But then I have to get to a few more job sites today, so you’ll need to work with me.”

“Done!” She held out her cone to me.

I took it from her and watched her climb bodily over Sutton before racing back into the playroom.

“She has so much energy.” Sutton sighed. “I wish I had that much.”

“I talked to a few buddies with the club, and they all agreed to come up to Boston with us,” I started in. “They’ll watch Lottie for me while I run. So I guess that means I actually have to train for this one.”

Her eyes turned to study mine. “You can join in with me.”

I looked at my watch. “When do we start?”

“Is tomorrow okay with you?” she asked. “There’s no way I’ll be able to process all this dairy tonight and still be able to make a good run of it.”

“You name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”