Bonus Kisses - Freya Barker Page 0,67
it?”
“God, don’t get me started. There’s that slipup I think my mom heard.” I turn in his arms so we’re face-to-face. “Did she?”
“Fuck. It slipped out. I was waiting for her to say something, but she just looked at me funny. I figure maybe she’s not sure what she heard.”
“I hope so. Otherwise it would make the drive to Springfield on Friday very uncomfortable.”
“Springfield?”
“Dad has an appointment with the neurologist.”
“Yeah, he seemed a lot worse.” He strokes the back of his fingers over my cheek. “So you’re going with them?”
“That’s the plan. I’ll see if Kathleen can take the kids for the day.”
His smile is warm as he leans in for a soft brush of his lips, then another, before he slants his head and takes my mouth in a sweet, lazy kiss.
“Get some sleep, baby,” he mumbles when he finally lifts away, and I turn so we’re back to front again.
“What if the kids—”
“I’ll be up before them.”
I close my eyes and with his breath brushing my shoulder, and the secure weight of his body wrapped around me, I feel myself finally drifting off.
“Rafe?”
“Hmm?”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“I missed you.”
Rafe
“Puleeze, can we have a horse?”
I look over at Spencer. “Son, we’ve had this talk.”
In fact, we’ve had this talk every morning over breakfast since the kids got home. The animals vary; he’s asked for a goat, a potbelly pig, and this morning’s horse is a repeat of Tuesday. What has been consistent, and a bit puzzling, is he always seems to turn to Taz and asks her.
I have a sneaky suspicion Sofie is putting her brother up to it. She’ll whisper something to him and then intently observes the interaction with special focus on her aunt. This morning is no different.
It’s not the only thing I’ve noticed. Since coming back her behavior toward Taz has changed. Short monosyllabic answers and when I catch her looking at Taz, she seems almost hostile at times.
“Sofie, can I have a word with you?” I tilt my head in the direction of the living room and watch as she gets up from the table and drags her feet out the door.
The clinic will have to wait; my daughter and I need a talk.
“Finish your breakfast, Spencer,” I hear Taz tell him when I follow my daughter into the living room.
“I haven’t finished my breakfast yet,” Sofie challenges the moment I walk in.
“You can finish it when we’re done.”
I ignore the scowl on her face and pull her down on the couch with me, my arm around her shoulders firmly anchoring her in place.
“What’s going on with you, Pipsqueak?” I ask gently.
“Nothing.”
Yet I can feel her go rigid under my touch at my question.
“It’s not nothing. I know my girl.” I give her shoulder a squeeze. “This business with your brother every morning, that has to stop.”
She looks at me with those pretty brown eyes, so much like her mother and her aunt, and innocently blinks at me. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Not buying, Sofie. I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, but it’s not fair to Spencer. Are you upset about something? You seem angry. At Aunt Taz, especially. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” This time she drops her head as she mumbles the word and I can hear her voice crack.
I move to sit on the coffee table across from her, so I can look her in the eye. Leaning forward, I put my hands on her legs. “Did something happen in Kentucky?” She shakes her head, but I notice a tear rolling down her face. “Did someone say something? Come on, Pipsqueak, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
“She’s just going to leave us too,” she hiccups.
“Who is? Aunt Taz?”
“Yes.” With that she bursts into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
I slide to my knees in front of her and pull her shaking body in my arms. “Oh, baby. Aunt Taz isn’t leaving. Who told you that?”
Over her shoulder I can see Taz in the door opening, worry sketched on her face. I shake my head and mouth, “I’ve got this.”
My little girl is sobbing inconsolably. I move to sit on the couch, pulling her on my lap, and wait patiently for the crying to subside.
“Why would you think Aunt Taz is leaving, Sofie?”
“Be-because I huh-heard Grandma and G-Grandpa fight. Grandma said sh-she wouldn’t be able to handle us, that she wasn’t gonna stick around once she understood how much work raising kids is.”
“Grandma is wrong,” I say with enough conviction she