“Nothing,” Luke says altogether too quickly, and I see a flash of shiny copper hair as Willa’s head flips in his direction. One perfectly manicured eyebrow arching at him.

Her bullshit detection is well-honed. I suppose that comes with working with children.

Mine is just from wading through bullshit every damn day. Those goddamn cowboys in the bunkhouse. My brothers. Town drama. My ex.

The only person who doesn’t exhaust me is my little sister Violet. But that could be just because she moved away to the coast.

“We didn’t do nothing, Luke.” Willa spears a green bean, and I try not to get distracted by the way she slides it into her mouth.

“We . . .” My son flips his gaze between us. Guilty as all get-out. “Made pancakes! With chocolate chips! Lots and lots of chocolate chips.”

Willa winces as she glances back down at her plate. When she peeks up and catches me staring at her, she says, “What? You said no sugar after dinner.”

Shaking my head, I turn my attention back on Luke. “What else?”

“Nothing—” he starts, right as Willa says, “We bought heads of lettuce and then threw them out the window of my Jeep.”

My lips roll together as I cast a quick glance in her direction, seeing that she looks entertained and fucking clueless.

“Luke.” He looks terrified. It’s so hard to give my kid shit when he’s this cute. But I don’t get the privilege of playing good cop, bad cop with another parent. I get stuck doing all the dirty work. Doling out all the scolding. Some days I worry about how that makes me seem to him, but someone’s gotta keep him on the straight and narrow.

Someone’s gotta keep him safe.

“Sorry!” he exclaims, shrinking down in his seat while Willa’s head swivels between us.

“Why are we sorry?”

I sigh deeply, shaking my head and sawing into my chicken breast with altogether too much force. “Luke has already asked to throw lettuce heads out the window and I told him no.”

Luke can’t even hold my eyes, and Willa’s jaw drops as she stares back at him. “Dude! Seriously?”

His little lips clamp down as he curls in on himself. He’s not a bad kid, he’s just got a little bit of a rebellious streak. I guess he comes by it honestly as an Eaton boy.

“I thought Dad meant he just didn’t want to do it.” He turns pleading eyes on Willa. “You said you had fun doing it!”

“Luke—” I start but Willa cuts in.

“We both know you’re smarter than that, Luke. You tricked me. On purpose. Not cool. I had fun, but knowing that you lied to me about it ruins all the fun.” She says it with nothing mean in her tone, but Luke looks devastated.