My mouth dropped open and a gasp trickled out. "You've had to work on Christmas?"
He laughed through the phone at my outrage. "Fires and accidents happen every day, baby. Someone has to take care of them. Besides, Thanksgiving and Christmas are two of our biggest days. You get overeager husbands who want to fry a turkey but don't have the first fucking clue how. Might be a disaster, but it leads to some pretty entertaining stories. And at least we don't have time to think about not being with our families if we're constantly busy."
"I guess you have a point," I pouted, hating that he was alone and working on the holidays and didn't even get to enjoy all the delicious food.
"Aw," he said teasingly. "You're worried about me. That's sweet."
I let out an inelegant snort. "Please. I'm not worried. Just don't want you to be jealous that I'll be in a hardcore tryptophan coma in a few hours and feel like you missed out."
His gravelly chuckle did crazy things to my insides. "Believe me, I'd much rather be curled up next to you with a turkey hangover than here. But then I remember that I get you to myself tomorrow, no interruptions, makes it all worth it."
A quiver worked its way through my belly at the sinful tone of his voice, and I suddenly couldn't wait for tomorrow. "Don't turn me on when I have to spend the next few hours stuck in a kitchen with my mom and my aunt."
That got me another chuckle. "Well, don't say something like that and turn me on when I have to go back into a room full of guys who'll give me shit for sporting a hard-on."
I wouldn't have giggled at the picture he painted if the thought of Quinn hard didn't send a flood of arousal through my core.
I must have let out a tiny moan, because he suddenly growled into the receiver. "Okay, I see I'm going to have to cut this conversation off here if you're going to keep making sounds like that."
I giggled and shifted from foot to foot, the cold finally starting to seep into my bones. "I should get back inside anyway. Be safe, okay?"
"Promise, baby. I'll talk to you later."
We hung up, and I took a few more seconds to get my raging hormones back under control. I was just about to turn and head into the house when the back door opened and Dad walked through with my coat in his hands.
"You're going to catch your death out here, Lilly Flower."
I turned and slipped my arms into the coat he held open for me. "It's not so bad." I looked out at the expanse of snow-topped trees and mountains that provided a stunning view as far as the eye could see. "It's so beautiful out here."
Dad threw his arm around me and pulled me into his side as we both stared out at the horizon. "Why do you think me and your mom refuse to live anywhere outside of Wyoming? Nothing but God's country out here, baby girl. Beauty as far as the eye can see."
"I get it." I nuzzled into him, taking in his familiar scent mixed with the fresh snow. "I'd never want to live anywhere else either."
"So … " he dragged out. "I'm taking it from that smile you had on your face when I came out here that you and your young man have found equal footing?"
My head shot to the side, my eyes shooting up at him. He wore a grin on his face that told me he hadn't forgotten our conversation from over a month ago. I hadn't talked to my parents about Quinn since we started seeing each other. I felt like if I admitted it out loud, I'd somehow jinx it. I shouldn't have been surprised that he remembered. I was his baby girl, and even sick he was still as protective as he'd always been.
"We're … working on it," I answered slowly.
He looked back out at the landscape. "Well, that's better than nothing. What's he up to today?"
"He's working. He's a firefighter with the Pembrooke Fire Department so he's on shift today."
"Honorable line of work," Dad said.
"Yeah, but it's sad they have to miss out on days like today with their families."
Dad turned to me and grinned before guiding us back toward the door. "Then I guess you should pack up whatever leftovers we have so you can take them a bit of the holiday, huh?"
I could have smacked myself for not thinking of that sooner. We stepped back into the house, and I lifted up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on my father's cheek. "You're a smart man, Dad. Anyone ever tell you that?"
He chuckled and hugged me tight. "Don't let your mother find out or she'll start expecting more from me. All these years later I've still got the woman convinced I don't have the first clue how to use a washing machine."
We laughed and made our way back to the family, and I was comforted by the fact that, even if this was my dad's last Thanksgiving, at least it was a great one.