Hot SEAL, A Forever Dad (SEALs in Paradise #31) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,5

planted her hands on her hips. “Is there a reason why you two are shouting like banshees over the remote? And since there’s homework to do, I would advise you to consider your answer carefully.”

Both children’s mouths had opened, ready to tell their side of the story, when they snapped shut. Eyes wide, they glanced between each other and her. Wisely, Lily clicked the TV off and placed the remote on the coffee table.

“I’m done,” Charlie pronounced, eyeing the remote longingly.

“I’m almost done,” Lily said. “But it’s not fair. I have more to do than he does. Fourth grade is a lot harder than first grade.”

“That might be, but you also get more perks to go along with the responsibility of being older.”

She hid her smile as she watched her daughter noodle through that concept, letting out a small sigh of relief when her daughter nodded her agreement.

“Okay, Charlie,” Lily conceded. “I’ve got at least fifteen more minutes of homework and then we can play.”

Charlie nodded, then looked up toward Violet. “While she finishes, can I show you what I did?”

“Of course. Let’s go into the kitchen so we can leave your sister alone while she works.” Charlie grabbed his papers from the coffee table and darted toward the kitchen, barely slowing down enough for her to ruffle her fingers through his hair. Turning toward Lily, she bent and kissed the top of her daughter’s head, mumbling, “Thank you, sweetie.”

She and Charlie sat at the kitchen table, and she offered her full attention as he reviewed his spelling and math homework. By the time they’d finished, Lily had joined them, and Violet had finished making dinner: hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, and sweet peas. It wasn’t the best dinner a mom could provide but considering both kids were going through picky-eater phases, she was glad to find something they’d both eat.

Winter had just passed, but the spring weather in Hope City was ever-changing. Their backyard received the most direct sunlight, and she shooed the kids out to play in the fresh air after calling out to them to grab jackets.

Moving back to the sink, she washed dishes and allowed her mind to wander over her workday. Dropping her chin to her chest, she sighed. If only she had finished her college degree before getting married. It was harder now as a widow with two children to take classes part-time, but she was so close to graduating with a degree in management, she could almost taste it. And then she could afford to find a new job with a new boss… one that hopefully would consider her to be more than office decoration while staring at her chest all day.

Her title was bookkeeper for a small company, but when the owner died a year ago, his nephew took over. It was then that her fun job with a nice boss changed, and her days were now spent as barely more than a receptionist who answered the phone, took messages, and fetched coffee. As well as avoid his constant invitations to dinner. She had no interest in her boss, and the way his eyes dropped to her breasts every time he talked to her made her skin crawl.

She rinsed the dishes and put them into the rack to dry. There were other jobs available, but she’d worked for the company since pregnant with Lily and she’d built up sick days to take when needed for the kids. Her former boss has been so good during her bereavement leave when Matt died. She also had health insurance through them… a true bonus with young kids.

Moving to the back door, her gaze landed on the kids as they kicked a ball back and forth, shouting encouragement for each other. As she so often did, she stood at the doorway and watched, knowing if she looked into a mirror, she would see a sad smile… tinged with anger. Charlie had his father’s dark brown hair and her blue eyes and one day would have his height. Lily took after her with black hair paired with dark blue eyes. And, like Violet, would probably be more petite.

“If only you could have seen them grow up, Matt.” Her whispered words were soft, for no one’s ears other than her own. And because he was gone, there was no answer. She’d been widowed for three years, and while the ache had diminished, for each milestone her children reached was the knowledge that she, alone, celebrated their achievements. Giving