Chapter 45
But this was the last of the second bottle, and every now and then, Lane glanced over to find Remy dozing on the other side of his son. Wine glass forgotten in one hand, chin fallen to his chest, eyes slipping shut. If Lane nudged his foot, Remy would wake with a jerk and blink as he looked around. Then he’d see Lane’s grin and smile himself, a little puzzled perhaps, as if he wasn’t quite sure what the joke was but he was sure it had to be a good one. He’d swallow more wine and try to focus on Braden’s game until his eyes started to close once again.
Since Remy was Braden’s father, Lane didn’t feel it was his place to put the kid to bed. And Braden wasright—it wasn’t a school night, so he could stay up a little past his usual hour, only Lane didn’t know what time that might be. When he was Braden’s age, he had gone to bed after watching The Dukes of Hazzard, but almost thirty years later, he didn’t remember the time.