May started out as a lovely month. The weather was mild, and at the back of the property, the lilac bushes were in bloom.
And Mark Vincent was still residing in my son’s townhouse.
Quinton and I had the horses out this Sunday, and I decided it might be a good idea to bring it up. If Vincent planned to continue listing Quinton’s address as his own, perhaps it might be a good idea to buy them something monogrammed.
I chuckled to myself, and decided to tease my son. “Sweetheart…”
He was smiling faintly, and his attention seemed to be turned inward.
“Quinton!”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Mother.” A blush colored his cheeks and burned the tips of his ears. “What were you saying?”
“You were a million miles away.” I observed him thoughtfully, all thoughts of teasing him gone. “Where were you?”
