You Can Count On Me (Christmas Daddies, #2)

by Fae Quin

You think you’ve seen everything by the time you hit thirty-seven. But then a familiar tiny blond eleven-year-old shows up at your house just after dark, wielding a baseball bat in one hand and an inhaler in the other. And he threatens you with it—the bat, not the inhaler—until you agree to take his dad on a date, and you realize you were wrong. You definitely haven’t seen everything. Nope. Not even close.

This made me laugh XD

Loss leaves wounds that never quite heal,

Those eyes. Holy hell. How could they even be real? When had they gotten so green? Like soda bottles, or sea glass. Smooth pieces of stone that lay hidden at the bottom of the lake somehow finding their way to shore every summer just in time for rowdy little boys and their older brothers to pick them up, take them home, and add them to their growing collections. I’d spent days in the sweltering heat collecting stones the color of Rooster’s eyes. Pale and vibrant all at the same time. For years they’d sat on my window sill, catching sunbeams in the same way I bet his eyes did.

This is a lovely little description.

“Take your time!” I called as he scurried off, scampering like a woodland creature despite the fact he was the size of a goddamn moose.

XD I've met people that really need to be described like this more often

I’d always known “bless his heart” was a bad thing, even if it didn’t sound like one.

Truth

Italian food was a nightmare when you were big like me. The forks felt too small, and the noodles were chaos disguised in tomato sauce.

This poor entire child XD But also, I get it

He looked tired. So tired. Bone deep. I hated that. I wanted to help but I didn’t know how. If he was Bubba or Gram I’d take him out for ice cream. Put on a BBC Planet Earth rerun. Bake some cookies. Put on some music—anything to fill the silence.

XD Does it make me a child or an old woman if I say this would make me feel better?

Rooster looked…small somehow. Vulnerable in a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans covered in paint splatters and tiny handprints on the legs.

Break my heart. But I love little details like this.

“If you weren’t going to hit me with it, why bring it at all?” “Pops says violence is never the answer,” Bubba quoted again, but his eyes were full of mischief this time. “But Theodore Roosevelt said ‘speak softly and carry a big stick.’ And he was the president, so…” He shrugged as if that explained everything. Which I supposed it did.

XD I like this kid so much. Protecting your dad by threatening his date with a baseball bat is the way to go.

I’d been a train stop for a lot of people, but I was self-aware enough to know I wasn’t anyone’s ultimate destination.

No one touched what was mine and got away with it. No one.

We do love protective parents going feral over their loved ones 💕

Trent’s voice was low, dangerous. Calm as a river just waiting to drown you.

Love this description

thought. People can be tricky, slippery things.”

“I’ll kill him.” Trent struggled to sit up, almost like he was ready to crawl out of the car and do just that. I hit the child safety lock to trap him in. He fought for only a moment before he wisely gave up the second he realized he couldn’t get the door open. “Shit.” He sighed, dropping back down with a sleepy little grumble. “I’ll kill him later, then.”

😂😂😂

When we’d sat side by side after he’d sung Bubba to sleep, and I’d pretend I hadn’t listened, soaking up his love for his baby, like if I strained hard enough, long enough, some of it would become mine.

💕

Forgiveness tasted like forty kinds of hot cocoa, felt like borrowed hoodies, and smelled like Trent’s cologne.

I like this line

“At home you act all sweet, then I take you out and you’re like…like—this.” She’d gestured at me, from head to toe. All of me. Encompassing my flaws in that one single movement, like there was no part of me that wasn’t wrong. She taught me I was broken. She taught me I wasn’t right. That I wasn’t what she wanted me to be. It had taken becoming a dad myself to realize that there’d been nothing wrong with me. All along the fault had laid with her.

Truth 💕

Paxton and I thought we should baptize him by fire. Nothing says, ‘welcome home’ like kicking your brother’s ass.”

Made me laugh XD

When I tucked him in, Bubba woke up. He stared at me real hard, all pretty green eyes full of stars, and he said, “I wish you were my dad.” My heart about broke. “You got a dad, sweet pea.” “No,” Bubba shook his head, snuggling his stuffed chicken into his arms as he stared at me all serious, way too serious for a kid his age. “I got a pops,” he waited a moment so I would get what he was saying. My heart about stuttered out of my chest. “I wish I had a dad too.”

You don’t get to break my damn heart like that, child

The linoleum slid beneath my feet as I ducked into the hallway, Mama’s voice chasing me. “Where are you going—?” “Home.” I turned back to her, my tears still hot, lashes still wet. I couldn’t help but grin.“I forgot something.” “The casserole?” she teased, and I shook my head. “No.” A feeling of rightness settled warm and soft around my heart. “My goddamn family.”

Killing me 💕

Life was full of scary experiences. Strength came from enduring them, not avoiding them. And right now he had two full grown adults—and one idiot in the woods—who were around to protect him while he learned.

I shouldn’t laugh but I am XD

Silence was just another way of running,

I like this

It had never occurred to me that when I reached the end of the tightrope I’d have the privilege of standing still.

words have always been my enemy.”