Bonus Kisses - Freya Barker Page 0,57

big one. I’ve gotta go find some more worms now.”

I hear the clatter of a phone being dropped on a hard surface, followed by running footsteps and finally the slam of a door. Clearly my son is done with the conversation but forgot to end the call.

I’m about to hang up when I hear a rustle and then Sofie’s soft voice.

“Daddy?”

“Hey, Pipsqueak.” I see Taz’s eyes warm at the use of my name for Sofie. “Sounds like you had fun today.”

“Yeah, but my horse’s name is Sunbeam, and Uncle Steve says he’s an Appaloosa.”

“Make sure you take a picture of him so I can see.”

“I already have. Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you,” she says in a wobbly voice, and my heart is suddenly in my throat.

“I miss you too, baby, and I can’t wait to see you next week. In the meantime, I want you to have fun with your cousins. Are you getting along?”

“Yeah, they’re nice. I just don’t like sleeping in one bed with Spencer. He farts in his sleep.”

I bite down a chuckle. “I don’t think he does it on purpose.” Before she has a chance to lament her brother’s shortcomings, I redirect the conversation. “Only a few more nights and you’ll be back in your own bed.”

“Grandma says we’re leaving Monday morning.”

“You probably won’t get home until Tuesday, but we’ll be here waiting for you.”

When I end the call I notice Taz looking; a pensive expression on her face.

“She’s homesick,” she accurately concludes.

“Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

She seems to ignore my question, and instead pulls her feet up on the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I’ve been thinking.”

That’s rarely a good thing, especially when her entire posture screams distance. “About what?”

“Well, in part about last night. What Kathleen said about us.” I’m trying to recall exactly what she said, but Taz already continues, “It made this whole thing sound so…I don’t know…illicit. Almost tawdry, like some damn soap opera.”

“This whole thing?” I can’t help focus on that rather dismissive term. “You mean our relationship?”

She has the grace to look a little guilty when she confirms with a soft, “Yes.”

I lean forward with my elbows on my knees. “Does this feel tawdry to you? What we have going on here? Does it feel cheap to you? Because it sure as fuck doesn’t feel cheap to me. Sure, from an outsider’s perspective it may appear illicit, but from right here…” I slap a hand on my chest, “…where it matters, all it feels is right.”

Taz blinks a few times at my words, contemplating them before she speaks.

“Then how come I woke up this morning with you sneaking out of the spare room to have a shower in the master bathroom down the hall, like you have every morning this past week?”

That observation takes the wind out of my sails. Actually, it’s the slightly rueful tone she uses that jars me. Of course she’s right, I’ve left her every morning, slipping out of her room to get ready for the day, but only so she could catch a few more winks. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Her smile is a little sad. “I appreciate that, but it’s not my point. What I’m saying is that you’ve come to my bed every night, but haven’t once invited me into yours, which…” she holds up her hand to stop the protest forming on my lips, “…I get, I do, but at the same time it makes me feel like a guilty secret.”

I hear her loud and clear, and I’m kicking myself for not sharing my reasoning behind my trek into her bedroom every night. So much for insisting on clear communication, I’m failing miserably myself.

I’m across the room and in front of her chair in a flash, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. “Put something on your feet, you’re coming with me.” I don’t let go of her hand when she stops; slipping her feet in the Crocs she keeps by the kitchen door.

“The dogs.”

“They can come with.”

The sun is already down when we cross the lawn to the clinic’s back entrance, the dogs dancing around our legs. I lead her through the dark hallway to my office and flick on the lights.

“Sit here.” I push her down in my desk chair and lean over her to boot up my laptop.

“Rafe, what are—”

“Just give me a second, Sweets.”

A few clicks and my amateur drawing fills the screen.

“What is that?” She leans closer, looking at