Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

Gypsy pulled onto the property with a sigh of relief. Another day down. She had the bar adequately staffed tonight, so she could spend some much-needed time with Cooper. At least until he fell asleep; then she’d get around to the mountains of busy work the bar created—marketing, social media, event planning, entertainment scheduling, and bills. So many bills.

Miranda and Cooper were already at the house when she pulled around to park in the back. As soon as Gypsy spotted her dark-haired boy, her heart lightened. She forgot all about Wyatt and his problems as she dropped into a crouch to catch her son as he flung himself into her arms with a happy “Mama!”

“Hey, Coop.” She hugged him tight and pressed a kiss to his hair. He smelled like a little boy who’d done a lot of playing today, and she was thrilled to see him so happy. Just holding him pried her heart wide open.

Miranda stood on the deck, arms crossed, grinning at the two of them. Gypsy’s life felt so complete, so solid. She’d reconnected with her siblings, been taken into the family Miranda had created with Marty and Alaina, and she had a perfectly healthy, perfectly happy three-year-old son. Her bar was busier than ever, pulling in money hand over fist. All she needed now was more time with Cooper, and her life would be perfect.

Her mind strayed back to Wyatt. Having a sexy man in her life would be the cherry on top.

She and Cooper strolled toward the house. “Was he good?”

“Of course.” Miranda waved away the question. “Always. He’s an angel. We won’t even discuss his attempt to run off with one of the tractors on the Quail Ridge property.”

Gypsy’s eyes flew wide and her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“We were checking out the tractors.” Miranda owned a construction business and specialized in container homes. Quail Ridge was one of her newest developments. “And Cooper was just climbing around the way he always does, checking out the big tires, the big scoops, the high seats. Then he found a key one of the guys had left in the ignition. But he didn’t much like the sound of the engine rolling over. I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about him taking any joyrides. At least not for a few more years.”

The casual way Miranda conveyed the situation told Gypsy no real concern was warranted, and Gypsy knew from her time with Miranda that more went into moving heavy machinery than the simple turn of a key.

At the base of the stairs, she crouched and looked at Cooper. “Were you playing with the tractors today?”

He frowned. “They sound like monsters.”

She could imagine how the sudden, unexpected growl of a tractor could most definitely sound like a monster to a little boy.

Gypsy kissed his forehead and pushed to her feet. She met Miranda on the porch. “Thanks for watching him. The bar was insane last night.”

“With Wyatt Jackson playing, I imagine it was standing room only.”

She pushed open the front door to the small, two-bedroom container home Miranda had built for Gypsy before Cooper was born. Inside, she dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, while Cooper wandered into the living room and pulled out some toys.

“That man is more trouble than he’s worth,” Gypsy said. “He showed up late—with his five-year-old niece.”

Miranda’s eyes widened with surprise. “He brought a kid into your bar? While it was open?”

“Cone of silence?” she asked as she opened the refrigerator and frowned at its empty state.

Miranda took a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar. “Always.”

She glanced toward the living room to make sure Cooper was occupied and lowered her voice. “His sister-in-law bailed on his niece. As in moved-out-of-the-country bailed.”

Miranda gasped, her face a mask of horror. “No.”

“Mama,” Cooper whined, rolling around on the floor with one of his stuffed animals.

“I’ll get you a snack, Coop. Carrots or apples?”

“Apples.”

Gypsy cut up an apple and handed it to Cooper in a small plastic bowel. “Do you remember how to turn on the Disney station?”

&n

bsp; Cooper started toward the television. “Yeah.”

Gypsy watched him totter to his child-sized beanbag chair with an apple slice in one hand and the bowl in the other. He dropped onto the pillow-like chair and picked up the remote from the side table. Without any trouble, he turned on the television, which was always tuned to Disney+, and contentedly ate his Apple while watching a The Lion Guard.

“We haven’t turned on the TV since you dropped him off yesterday,” Miranda said as Gypsy returned to the kitchen. “This will be a nice break for him.”