The Sweetest Game (The Perfect Game 3)

“Oh my God! Don’t listen to him. ” Aunt Melissa smacked his arm. “I mean, listen to him, but …” She grunted and stopped short of finishing her sentence.

Uncle Dean smirked. “I’m just trying to warn him. Someone needs to. ”

Mom came around the table and patted me on the back. “Chance has his head on straight. He isn’t a Little Jack. Don’t you worry, he’s focused. He’ll be fine. ”

“I hope I get to go to Fullton State too,” Coby interjected and my mom audibly sighed.

“I’m not sure I could live through history repeating itself,” her widened eyes met my Aunt’s.

“Two generations of Carter boys? Lord help us all,” Aunt Melissa shook her head.

Before I could say anything, Dad scooted his chair back and pulled on my mom’s hand, causing her to fall straight into his lap.

“I don’t think using me as a bad example is really working here, folks. ” My dad frowned at the rest of the family while wrapping his arms around my mom’s waist. “‘Don’t be like Jack,’” he said in a mocking falsetto voice. “‘Focus. Don’t be like your father. ’ But as far as I see it, being like me will get you the best wife in the world, the coolest kids, and a great family. Yeah, son …” He glanced at me. “Don’t be like me. Wouldn’t want that. ”

My mother practically melted as she gave him another less-than-appropriate kiss, no matter how many times I groaned. I watched, shaking my head, as my dad pulled two quarters from his pocket and tucked them into her hand. “For later,” he whispered, but I heard and he knew it.

Damn it, Dad. I was ruined forever. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I eventually wanted what my parents had … just not anytime soon.

Later.

WAY later.