and join her on the steps, sliding my legs on either side of her and pulling her back against me.
“Asleep already. Burned out after a day in the pool.”
“Good. I hope they had fun.”
I kiss the top of her head. “They had a blast. Want to tell me about today?”
“Dad wants the surgery.”
“Okay. How do you guys feel about that?”
“Can I tell you tomorrow? I haven’t even begun to process it all.”
I drop my chin to her shoulder. “Of course. Why don’t we ask them for dinner tomorrow? I’ll make ribs; your dad loves those. We can talk about things then.”
“Sounds good. I think I may be heading upstairs too. I’m beat.”
“Kiss me first.”
She tilts her head back and I don’t hesitate to cover her mouth with mine, groaning as her taste hits my senses.
I love this woman. Completely. The sounds she makes, the feel of her skin under my touch, the humor in her eyes, her wild hair and ratty clothes. I love her sweet and her bite. The way she can brighten a room simply by being in it, and the way she adores the kids.
Most of all I love how her eyes give me everything she hasn’t put in words.
She loves me too; I’m just not sure for how long once she finds out a little honesty is on tomorrow’s menu.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Taz
“Can we get ice cream?”
I look at Sofie, who has her nose pressed to the door of the cooler.
Rafe was called out on an emergency this morning so the kids tagged along to the grocery store with me.
“I planned on making an apple crumble for dessert,” I tell her.
“Exactly,” she points out, “which will taste even better with ice cream.”
“Ice cream is the best!” Spencer puts in his two cents’ worth.
I’m quickly discovering that grocery shopping with children for only a handful of things ends up with a full cart. I’m being tag-teamed and I know it. Still, I grab a container of vanilla ice cream from the cooler and add it to the cart, because there’s no denying; apple crumble does taste better with a scoop of ice cream.
“Okay, guys. Let’s get going, I think we have everything.”
“Can we get the puppies a new toy?” Spencer wants to know when we pass through the aisle with the pet food.
“Kid, they’ve got more toys than you and your sister combined, they don’t need more. When we get home you can give them one of those rawhides when you take them out of the crate.”
Lilo and Stitch are teething, which means they’re chewing on everything. It’s been a challenge to keep everything out of the reach of those little sharp chompers.
Meredith comes walking up when we get to the checkout, a big smile on her face.
“This is the brood?” She looks from Sofie to Spencer, who both stare back at her.
“Guys, this is my friend, Meredith.”
“You work here?” Spencer asks her, his eyes big when he spots the store logo on her shirt.
“Yup.”
“Do you get to eat what you want?”
Meredith bursts out laughing at my nephew’s wide-eyed question.
“The perpetually hungry man-child is Spencer,” I clarify with a grin. “And this is Sofie.”
“Oh my, I can see the family resemblance; you’re as pretty as your aunt.”
I can’t quite tell what is going on behind Sofie’s eyes, but it’s clear from the way she looks at me the comment gives her thought.
“Anyway,” Meredith continues. “I was going to give you a call to see if you’d like to come over for dinner next weekend. I got Andrew a new grill for his birthday a few weeks ago, and he’s been eager to show it off. Bring the kids,” she adds, ruffling Spencer’s hair, “there’ll be plenty of food.”
“Would love to, but we won’t be around. We’re heading up to Mark Twain National Forest next weekend.”
“We’re gonna be sleeping in a tent,” Spencer adds excitedly. “And I’m going fishing.”
“A tent, huh? Well, that sounds like fun.” Meredith turns to me, with her eyebrows raised and a smirk on her face.
I pretend not to notice. “Yes, so can we take a rain check on dinner?”
“Sure. We’ll do it when you get back. I’ll call you—we’ll hash out the details.”
Grill me is probably more accurate. I hide a grin and shake my head. “Let’s hash them out over coffee instead, and we might as well get Kathleen in on that: two birds with one stone.”
Sofie has been quiet and it’s not until the ride home she says anything.
“Aunt Taz?”
“Yeah, honey.”
“Do you think