“Did I ever tell you about the time your girl saved me from Brian?” Gibsie asked while he cracked an egg over the pan, distracting me from my thoughts. “Brian?” I questioned, thinking about Mrs. Gibson’s evil bastard of a cat. “Shannon saved you from Brian?” “She sure did,” he mused. Grabbing a spatula off the rack, he swung it around in his hand as he spoke. “I love how you don’t even deny she’s yours anymore, lad.”
