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Chapter 7 - Jo Thompson
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Jo POV
"Where are you going?" Layla asks me as she opens the door and finds me grabbing my jacket as I pull a suitcase behind me. I look at her shaking my head.
"I'm going to see my parents for a couple of weeks," I say, and Layla frowns. "Mom wants me to spend Thanksgiving with them," I say, and she nods. Her eyes go sad, and I regret mentioning this to her. Her mother is a bitch, and her sister has been making things really difficult for her forever.
"Have fun," she says, walking past me without even glancing at me.
"Layla?" I say, and she stops walking, turning to face me and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I know we had plans for Thanksgiving, but you have a boyfriend now, a man that kisses the floor you walk on. He is going to ask you to spend it with you, and I know you would say no because
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Jo POV “What time is dad going to be home?” I ask my mom as I put on my jacket that is hanging by the back door in the kitchen. “He will be home around six. Where are you going?” she asks, and I smile at her doing the zipper of my jacket. It’s freezing outside. “I’m going to Mrs. Jackson’s farm,” I say, and mom smiles, nodding her head. I grab the keys for the truck and walk to mom, kissing her softly on the cheek. I walk out towards the truck, my temperamental truck. I have her since I was sixteen. I know that my dad is always on top of her, trying to get her to work, but sometimes she decides not to work properly. I start the engine and smile at the noise, and it’s familiar. I place both my hands on the steering wheel. “I missed you too, girl,” I whisper before I start driving. The drive to Mrs. J
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Dylan POV“I will have the contract sent over tomorrow by lunchtime,” I say to Mr. Thompson, and he smiles. He almost looks like Santa Clause. His big white beard and white hair really make him look like a cheerful old man.“No rush; tomorrow is Saturday. No need to have people working extra hours because sure as hell I am not working tomorrow,” he tells me, and I can’t help but smile. The man is cheerful, and he is probably the nicest man I have ever met. I can’t see any resemblance between him and Jo. She is uptight and serious, and she is always trying to kill me with those big brown eyes.“I’ll have them done for Monday then,” I tell him, and he stands up, nodding.“That’s my boy,” he says, and honestly, if it was anyone else, I would&r
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