After his meteoric rise to superstardom, Jim O'Brien is no longer a small-town boy who plays in bars and dreams of success. His handsome face is plastered on the covers of celebrity gossip magazines, and his voice alone is enough to make girls swoon...
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One of my bags landed on the living room floor with a thud.
"Are you sure this is the last one?" my dad asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "No more bags full of bricks? Sorry, books?"
"Ha-ha. Funny. It wasn't so much work, considering you haven't seen me in almost a year."
"No, it wasn't. I was just kidding." Dad's gaze turned soft. "Welcome home, Pumpkin."
Laughing at how I rolled my eyes, he squeezed me in a bear hug.
The eye roll was well-deserved. Pumpkin? Seriously? He'd better not call me that in front of other people, especially not boys.
Not that I'd be in boys' company, anyway. At least, not without some kind of divine intervention.
Why? I was nineteen, my only boyfriends were the book ones, and my dad still called me Pumpkin. Should I go on?
After leaving my luggage on the floor, Dad and I went to the adjacent kitchen.
"Are you hungry?"
My gaze traveled to where he was rummaging in the fridge. I hoped he had something edible there. After the long, boring flight from Paris, I could use some calories.
"Damn, this is past its pull date. Diarrhea isn't pretty, no. Not worth the risk. Maybe some cheese... Ava, didn't you say you brought some cheese?"
Some things never changed. Our permanently empty fridge was one of them.
"It's buried under my clothes in one of the suitcases. You could've bought groceries." I pouted.
Dad chuckled. "Don't you dare play cute. I've missed you enough to cave in and order whatever you want, although who am I fooling? I already have. Takeaway it is. Chinese?"
"Yay!" I clapped and plopped down on a chair while he called the restaurant.
Truth was, I couldn't blame Dad for the lack of welcome dinner. I was lucky to have him at home. With the sudden decrease in temperatures and icy roads, he was swamped. Being a trauma surgeon in winter sucked.
Well, it sucked in general, not only when the thermometer marked below zero.
Dad loved his job and was excellent at it, but sometimes it was hard on him, especially when he lost a patient on the operating table and had to face their grief-stricken family.
Dad had always been my hero, but he wasn't God.
"Daydreaming about boys?"
I snapped out of my thoughts and grinned. "Lucky for your peace, no."
"I wouldn't mind," Dad said, sitting next to me at our kitchen table. "It's only natural to fall in love, Pumpkin. You're no longer a baby, as much as it pains me."
