Hot Pursuit
Kylie Palmer strode briskly into her house, dropping her briefcase in the hall as she moved toward the bottom of the stairs. "Hey, champ!" she yelled. "Mom's home."
Her ten-year-old son, Ryan, darted out of his room with one sock on and one dangling from his hand. "Mom!" He ran down the stairs. "You're home early."
Kylie got a quick hug before he rounded the corner into the kitchen, probably in search of a snack. The boy was a bottomless pit these days.
"Ten minutes before we gotta go to soccer practice," he said.
Knowing she had to trade changing out of her pantsuit and heels for a ten-minute conversation with her never-slow-down son, she followed him and sat at the kitchen table. "Then I made it just in time."
In the process of smearing peanut butter on a piece of bread, Ryan turned. "You're taking me?"
"Unless your personal chauffeur is planning to show up and drive."
He frowned. "Are you talking about Honey, or are you just being funny?"
"I was going for funny."
"Yeah?" He turned back to his sandwich. "I think you missed the green flag on that one."
Kylie smiled. He was always better at humor than her. Like his father had been.
When ... read full excerpt from: Hot Pursuit ebook
