Jill rolled her eyes. “Nonsense. Your father deserves to spend his twilight years doing whatever he wants.” “What he wants is to continue working,” Rowan’s father cut in. “You know I’d drive you fucking mad if I was here full-time. You wouldn’t be ready for all that extra energy I’d have to direct elsewhere,” he waggled his brows. Jill peered at him over her wineglass. “Oh, you think that, do you? Try me.”
