“And don’t you dare give those boys any more treats before their lunch, John.” Scowling at her husband, Mrs. Kavanagh leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his clean-shaven cheek before saying, “Or you won’t be getting your treat.” “Jesus Christ,” Johnny choked out, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Come on, Shan—” Gagging, he grabbed my hand and moved for the gate. “Let’s get out of here before we both start anxious puking.”
