Page 45 of Claiming Lily

Looking thoughtful, he turns and gazes out of the windows. “She and her mom moved here when you were in elementary school?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“What about Matt? Wasn’t he dating her?” Isn’t he your friend?

“Things are complicated. Matt has been acting weird lately. . . I know it’s messed up to date her, but I really like her, is that so bad?”

“I suppose that depends on how serious it was.”

“Matt’s already dating again.” I shrug. “I think he’s more pissed she broke up with him before he broke up with her. He never really seemed to like her.”

He hums, sitting quietly for a moment and thinking carefully about his next words. “Well, she seems like a nice woman. Does she make you happy?” He looks at me, suddenly serious, some of that hurt he buries deep shining through. He loved my mom to the moon. As much as she loved him too, she was always missing part of who she really was and ended things. While he never showed it or admitted it, I know it must’ve killed him on the inside to lose the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with.

“She does.” I pause, taking a breath. “But there’s more.”

“She’s pregnant,” he says, so certain he’d bet money on that.

A laugh bursts out of me. “No, dad, jeez. She’s not pregnant.”

“Shame. I kind of want grandkids.”

“Isn’t pestering me about babies Mom’s job?”

“We’ll work together on this one,” he says with mirth flickering across his face. They may be divorced, but they’ve managed to keep a cordial friendship going for my sake.

“Well, she’s not pregnant.” I shake my head. “What I was going to say is, Lily isn’t only dating me.”

He tips his head. “What do you mean?”

“Gage and Cole are also dating her.”

The words carry over to him and he hesitates to grab hold of them while he processes, squinting slightly, brow wrinkling. Then he seizes it, understanding rippling over his face. “Ah! You’re a polyglot? That explains why you’ve been single for so long. Not many women in Big Ridge would be comfortable with that situation–being a polyglot I mean.”

“Do you mean polygamy?”

He thinks for a second. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s a polyglot.” He’s so confident it’s kind of funny.

Trying not to laugh, I say, “I don’t think it is.”

“Care to put money on that?” he asks, picking up his phone and looking at his screen through his glasses. Outside of owning a construction company, he’s a world champion Googler.

“Oh, absolutely. Three hundred.”

Laughing to himself, he mutters, “Prepare to lose, Son.”

I cover my mouth with my hand and watch intently as he speaks into his phone.

“What is a polyglot?” He looks at me over the rim of his glasses. “You should know better than to bet against your dad.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, a chuckle tumbling out of me. This is absolutely ridiculous. I know he’s wrong. Sometimes people have to dig their own grave, though.

“All right, here we go,” he says, grin a mile wide. “A polyglot is a person who. . . oh.”

Relaxing in my seat, I nod, more than ready to watch him eat crow. “Please, keep reading.”

He eyes me. “Don’t gloat.”

I hold up my hands. “I’m not, only curious.”