a kiss to his cheek—the only part of his face I can reach from this position. “In that case, you definitely need to let me get dressed.”
“Let me take it under consideration.”
Giggling, I wiggle against him. “And we need to get the flowers in here. And turn on the lights. And the plate of cookies.”
“Whose side are you on?” he asks darkly, but he sits back on his heels and drags me up into sitting with him.
“Yours.”
He hands me my clothes, running a hand over his face. “Holy shit. That was… intense.”
I slide up my panties and shorts, feeling the exact same way. “You could say that.”
He watches as I fasten my bra, eyes dark.
“It’s not goodbye forever,” I tell him.
“Thank God for the small mercies.” He kisses me, hard and true. “Will you stay? Be here when they get back?”
“Of course I will, if that’s okay.”
He helps me down the ladder, hands on my waist and lifting me the last bit. “It absolutely is.” Reaching down, he adjusts his trousers. “Although I’ll have to stop myself from kissing you for a few minutes.”
Laughing, I grab his hand, pulling him toward the house. My body feels too light and too heavy at the same time. “Come on. Let’s fix the last things.”
10
Ethan
“But it’s just so pretty,” Haven says. It’s the twentieth time she’s made the same observation today. She’s sitting cross-legged on one of the tiny kid-chairs, a book open in front of her, and the widest, happiest smile on her face.
“That was the idea,” I say. I’m halfway up the ladder, leaning in through the door. “But you still can’t sleep here tonight.”
She blinks at me, eyes wide. “Why not, Daddy?”
“We’ve already discussed that.”
Evie gives a dramatic sigh from her sprawl on the cushions. “I’m staying.”
“Neither of you are.” My voice is firm. “There are no beds here, no glass in the windows. It’ll get cold and damp.”
“It’s summer,” Evie says. Her voice is tiny but full of fiery determination.
“What happens when you need to pee at night?” I point out. “No bathroom out here.”
That momentarily stumps them both.
But then Haven’s eyes light up. “We’ll just have to go back to the house. It’s not that far.”
I lean my head against the wooden doorframe. I’d really created my own monster with this one. “Mr. Snuggles lives in your room,” I point out to Evie. “I don’t think he would like sleeping out here. Elephants don’t climb.”
Her small face screws up with sudden consternation. This is a problem.
“You can carry him, or I could,” Haven points out, displaying a rare bit of sisterly assistance. I’d be pleased at that, if she wasn’t doing it to further her own goals.
Evie nods slowly. “Yes,” she says. “But Mr. Snuggles doesn’t like the dark.”
“That’s right. And it’ll get very dark out here,” I say. “No night lights.”
Evie rises from the pillows, her mouth now set in a different kind of determination. She heads toward me. “Come on, Haven,” she tells her big sister.
Victory!
“Want to jump?” I ask, holding my arms out to catch her. Squealing, she throws herself out of the treehouse and I catch her, spinning her around. Crazy to think that I won’t always be able to do this. A few more years and she’ll be too big. A few more years after that and she’ll be asking to wear makeup or go on dates, and then college and—
“Faster!” she screams.
So I spin her around until my arms ache, until Haven rolls her eyes impatiently. But I ask her too, of course.
“Do you want to jump too?”
She hesitates only a moment before nodding. I catch her as well, and when I bend to pick up Evie, both of them give little hoots. It’s been a long time since I carried both of them at the same time. My body reminds me exactly why I’d stopped, but I ignore the protesting muscles. Mind over matter.
“Daddy truck,” Evie declares.
“Yes,” I grunt. Haven pushes the patio door open and I set them both down on the living-room carpet, ignoring the protests. “Whoops,” I say. “The Daddy truck ran out of gas.”
Maria snorts from the kitchen, and I’m happy at least someone appreciates my amazing jokes. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she calls.
Evie throws herself onto the couch and scrambles to arrange the pillows into a little fort. “Is Bella coming too?” she asks.
I blink at her. “No.”
“But Bella was the one who fixed the treehouse,” Haven says. “She should get dinner.”