Corey legit balled his hands into fists. “I’m. So. Over. The. Notebooks.” Greer tossed me a smirk. “It’s possible I have one at home. Kid gets riled up every time I make a note.” I let out a laugh. That was a good idea. “Don’t even think about it, Daddy,” Gael blurted out. Oh really? Don’t even think about it? Colt and Greer shook their heads at the boy. “I reckon that’s one for insolence there too,” I said, dropping my gaze to the clipboard. “Gael getting bossy with his superiors—won’t look good on your report card, chiquito.” “But it’ll look great in my brat book,” Corey told him. “I think
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