Athica Lane: The Carpino Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

nephew.
    “Daddy says I get to play basketball next year,” Noah adds with milk running down his face.  I grin as I wipe his face with a napkin.
    “I take gymnastics,” Cara informs me, albeit quietly.
    “You do?” I ask.  “That’s fun.”
    “Cara tried to play T-ball, but she didn’t like it,” Jordy says.
    I look at Cara and she wrinkles her face shaking her head with a big no, affirming she didn’t like T-ball. 
    “Gymnastics is for girls,” Noah says, bumping Cara on the arm with his shoulder. 
    “Uh, have you seen the Olympics?  Boys can do gymnastics.  Not to mention, their arms are really, really nice.”  All four kids frown in question, so I say, “Never mind.”
    “Dad wanted her to play softball but she didn’t even like T-ball.  He said she could take gymnastics if she promised to try basketball this winter,” Jordy goes on, informing me more about his dad.
    I frown and say, “I think gymnastics is great.  Sure, you should try new things, but there’s nothing wrong with sticking with what you love.  My mom made us all take music lessons.  Sophia and I played piano, my other sister Charlotte played the flute and my brother played the drums for a few months.  Of course my parents let him quit because they said he was too busy with basketball, but I think they didn’t want to tell him how bad he was.  They got tired of listening to the drums in the house.”
    “Uncle Tony played drums?” Cayden asks, smiling.
    “Not really,” I say.  “He made a lot of really bad noises.  It was a blessing they let him quit.  He was awful.  But my mom made us girls take lessons for years.  It really wasn’t fair.”
    A knock on the door breaks into our extracurricular activities discussion.  I look to the clock and frown, thinking “Just Cam” isn’t supposed to be here for a couple hours. 
    “Eat your cookies. I’ll be right back,” I say to all the kids. 
    I head to the door and when I open it, Cam Montgomery is standing there, but today all I see is his profile.  He’s facing the side of the porch with his arms crossed and even from the side, I see his jaw is set hard. 
    “You’re early,” I say.
    His body stays where it is, but he turns to me scowling, “Is that your car?”
    “What?” I ask, poking my head out the door to see what he’s looking at.
    Still not moving, he looks back to the driveway, jutting his chin, “The Lexus.”
    “Oh.  Yeah, that’s my car,” I say with zero enthusiasm. 
    “You’re well taken care of,” he mutters.  Finally turning to me, he says, “Tell the kids it’s time to go.”
    “Excuse me?” I ask.
    “I said tell the kids it’s time to go.  I came early, but I’ve gotta get back to work for a couple hours.  They can come with me,” he frowns.
    “No,” I frown right back.  “I heard the part about the kids.  What did you mean when you said I was ‘well taken care of’?”
    “Just sayin’, you must have landed yourself a good one to set you up like that so young,” he drawls.
    Oh, he did not just say that.
    “Landed myself a good one?” I repeat just to make sure he’s saying what I think he’s saying. 
    “Yeah,” he confirms.
    “Are you inferring that the only reason I could have a car like that is because a man is taking care of me?” I seethe. 
    “You?” he starts.  “I bet they’re lined up to take care of you.”
    “They?” I ask, barely hearing myself this time, not believing this conversation.
    “You know who I mean,” he answers, glaring.
    “I cannot believe you,” I start.  I mean, really.  Who does he think he is making assumptions like that about other people?  Shaking my head in disbelief, I put one hand to my hip and flip out the other ranting, “Yeah, you’re right.  I’ve landed myself a Sugar Daddy.  I pretty much do anything he wants or needs, and in return, he provides me with a vehicle.  He also dresses me.  See my fancy clothes?  I think I picked this little