answer before replying.
“I have to be honest…I haven’t thought that far ahead. I like Rooney, and Ira does too. We’re still figuring things out, but I know for sure that my intentions aren’t to hurt her. She’s amazing, and she’s been so sweet with Ira that I don’t think he would ever wanna let her go.”
He studied me closely before nodding.
“That’s your view. But what about hers?”
Good fucking question, because the last time we talked about us she said we were friends.
Okay, that was weeks ago, and things have clearly changed between us.
Still, there was no conversation about it after we started to come closer to each other.
Maybe I should start a conversation about it.
“That’s for her to tell. I can only say how I see it.”
That seemed to have been enough for him, but before he could say more, Ira called out to me.
“Look, Daddy! It’s a pumpkin!”
I turned to look at him and smiled, standing up and walking toward them after giving Devon a look to excuse myself.
“Are you carving it?” I asked, standing behind him and kissing the back of his head.
“Yes, and then we eat the inside!” he announced.
“We’re making pumpkin soup as well as chicken breasts and veggies. Sounds delicious, hm?” Rooney said to Ira, then she looked at me with a bright smile.
“It does. I can’t wait to try it all. Do you guys need some help?”
I asked more so to not get bombarded with new questions by Devon, and luckily, Rooney nodded and pointed to the table.
“I’ll help you set the table.”
And so we did while Devon stayed on the couch to continue reading something on his phone while Louise helped Ira take everything edible out of the pumpkin.
“Did Dad ask any weird questions?” she asked, worry filling her eyes now.
“No, not really. But there’s something I wanna talk to you about. But not right now.”
Her brows furrowed, and I realized I made it sound more serious than I wanted it to.
There was nothing she had to worry about, but she’d have to try and be honest and open with me the same way I would have to be.
God, I’m not ready for that talk.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rooney
Dinner was a success but I didn’t want it to end.
Wells looked serious when he told me he wanted to talk to me about something, and my heart had been racing the whole damn time while we ate the delicious food Ira helped us prepare.
I had an idea about what he wanted to talk about, but I wasn’t ready for that.
I wanted to enjoy this weekend, have fun on the ranch, and have a good time with Ira and Wells.
This brought us even closer together, and I loved how much Ira trusted me, but also my parents, whenever Wells wasn’t around for a few minutes.
Maybe that’s what he was lacking.
More adults around him who treated him like a prince and adored him just as much as his father did.
Not that Wells wasn’t enough for Ira, but it was nice seeing Ira bloom into an even more open and talkative little boy.
He wouldn’t stop asking questions about the animals on the ranch, and Dad promised to let him help feed them tomorrow morning.
For that, we’d have to get up very early, so Mom told us to go to bed so we would get enough sleep and not be tired in the morning.
Wells and Ira had already said goodnight to my parents, and I told him I would be right up.
We didn’t talk about who sleeps in which bedroom, but I would be okay with Wells sleeping with Ira and me in the other guest room.
“What’s that frown for, darling?” Dad asked as he sat back down at the table while I helped Mom put all the dishes into the dishwasher.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking,” I told him, smiling and turning to look at him.
“You sure about that? Ever since dinner you’ve been acting strange.”
Leave it to him to figure me out in less than a second.
I sighed and shook my head. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, Dad. I’m happy you guys welcomed Wells and Ira here. They’re loving it so far.”
“But there is something bothering you, sweetie,” Mom said.
“Yeah, there might be something, but it’s nothing I need you two to help me with. I’m fine, okay?”
They both looked at me, trying to decide if they wanted to keep pushing me to tell them, or if they’d rather leave me alone.
Whatever Wells wanted to talk