My children stared at me expectantly. Neither of them ate sausage, but they knew I did.
It was a completely ridiculous conversation, but it filled my hollow chest in unimaginable ways.
One week earlier, I’d had my son snatched away from me.
One week earlier, I’d lost all hope of ever having my family again.
One week earlier, I’d sat in a police station with my entire life unrecognizable
Yet one week later, I had everything I could ever want in one room, all staring at me, waiting for me to agree to chocolate chip pancakes and sausage.
My instincts told me to shut the door, lock it, and ride out the rest of my life in that room with them. The world outside was entirely too dark for lights that bright.
I stared at Charlotte, flanked by my kids—her son—her smile wide, her eyes full of love, and my heart became whole for what felt like the very first time.
“Make that bacon and you’ve got a deal.”
“Bacon!” Hannah squealed.
“What do you think?” she asked Travis out of the corner of her mouth while holding my gaze.
Travis chuckled and looked up at his mother. “I could eat some bacon.”
Her lips twitched. “You’ve got a deal. Now, return the hostage unharmed.”
I released Ian. “Kids, go see if Charlotte has any whipped cream in her fridge.”
“Yes!” Hannah yelled, sprinting from the room, Travis hot on her heels.
“If we use all the whipped cream for pancakes, we won’t have any for tonight,” she teased when we heard the kids celebrating their victory in the kitchen.
Hooking an arm around her shoulders, I pulled her against my chest and then planted a kiss on her mouth. “I’ll stock my fridge with whipped cream, you kinky minx.”
She grinned. “If it’s at your house, it won’t do us much good.”
“Come back to my place tonight,” I whispered.
Her eyes flared with alarm. “Porter—”
“Listen, it’s just for one night. Let the kids have a night of normalcy.”
“But that’s not normal anymore,” she argued. “It’s not ever going back to the way it was. You can’t get them attached to that.”
“The new normal is me and you together. Whether that be at my house or at your house. It doesn’t matter. This…right here”—I pointedly tightened my arm around her—“is what I want them to get used to.”
“But what about the protection order?”
“Exactly. We’ll be safer at my house. Here, anyone could stop by. At my place, worst case is my mom shows up and gets to see her grandson. She’s not going to rat us out. And I know for a fact that you can’t say that same thing about anyone in your family.”
She stared at her feet. “I don’t know, Porter. Going back to your place…”
“Back when the kids were a real issue for you, I used to dream about having you in my home. The kids fighting around us while you and I cook dinner in the kitchen.”
“You mean while I cook dinner in your kitchen,” she smarted. “You forget I’ve seen your culinary skills in action. I probably still have the burn marks to show for it.”
I smirked. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant. But I’m more than willing to sit on the counter and cheer you on.” I dipped and kissed her. “I want you in my home, Charlotte. I want the kids to sleep in their own beds, even for just one night. And I want to sleep in a room with a door and a bed so, if the mood strikes you, we can seriously utilize one of the twenty-seven cans of whipped cream that are now on my grocery list.”
She giggled and stared up at me.
Oh, I was in love with Charlotte Mills. No falling about it.
But, with the sentence that followed, I started to question why.
“Can Ian come too?”
“Woman!” I growled at the same time she burst into laughter.
* * *
Porter: I got you a Chihuahua for dinner. You’re still good with that, right?
I bit my bottom lip and straightened in the seat of my car. I was sitting outside Brady’s house, waiting on Travis to finish dinner. Butterflies the likes I’d never experienced fluttered in my stomach.
Me: You really know how to drive a joke into the ground.
Porter: Is that a no?
Me: Did you cook it?
Porter: Are you insane?
Me: I’m dating you, aren’t I?
Porter: So I AM your boyfriend?
I smiled, my face actually aching after I’d spent the day with Porter, Travis, and Hannah (God, that little girl was cute). We laughed more that day than I suspected any of us had in years.
But all good things came to an end.
Around five that afternoon, I’d had to take Travis to Brady’s for dinner.
Porter and I had briefed Travis about not mentioning to Brady that his father had spent the night—and especially not that we were going back to his house that night. My boy’s smile had stretched so wide at that news that I didn’t figure we had anything to worry about.
Me: Who said anything about you being my boyfriend?
Porter: Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed considering you can’t stop thinking about me naked.
Me: This? Again?
Porter: Tell me it’s not the truth.
Me: It’s not the truth.
Porter: Now, say it again, but this time, leave out the lies.
Me: I worry about your sanity sometimes.
Porter: Fine. But am I naked in your head while you worry?
I barked a laugh and glanced at the clock on the top of my phone. Three more minutes until I could get Travis and head over to Porter’s house.
This thing between us was crazy. We had a long way to go before Porter and I could ever have something solid again—or, more accurately, for the first time. But he’d been right in the darkness: As long as we held on to each other, we didn’t have to worry about the rest. When we were together, the world didn’t just stop—it disappeared. Travis was happy. Porter was happy. I was happy. And, judging by Hannah’s squeals of delight when I’d braided her hair that morning, I assumed she was happy too.
Me: You aren’t naked… You’re wearing a lovely pair of women’s underwear.
Porter: Wow. I’m not sure I wanted to know that.
Me: You still want to be naked in my head?
Porter: Maybe… How do I look in them?
Me: Ah…okay. You’re that type of guy. With a name like Porter Reese, I should have seen this coming.
Porter: Damn straight. That’s a sexy name.
Me: My mother always warned me about dating men with two first names.
Porter: What the hell kind of blasphemy is that?
Me: I don’t know, but now that I know you’re considering how well you’d fill out a pair of my panties, it’s making me wonder if she wasn’t right.
Porter: Well, you’re in luck. Your boyfriend also has two LAST names.
Me: Annnndddd…we’re right back to the boyfriend thing.
Porter: Yep. But look, it’s seven. Go get our boy and then get your sexy ass over here.
My stomach dipped, and I nearly dropped my phone.
Our boy.
My chest got impossibly warm, the words wiggling deep under my skin until they were stroking my soul.
That’s who he was.
Ours.
Porter hadn’t been there the day he had been born.
And I hadn’t been there when he had grown up.
But, as a team, one of us had always been there. First for Lucas, and then for Travis.
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, the words I love you all but clawing their way up my throat. I tamped them down.
Me: Are you going to be wearing women’s underwear when I get there?
Porter: Not a chance in hell.
I smiled and swung my car door open. I was halfway up to the door when my phone buzzed in my hand.
Porter: And, as soon as the kids go to sleep, you won’t be wearing any, either.
That warmth in my chest traveled south.
Travis chose that exact moment to come barreling out the front door. I jumped and, with pink cheeks, tucked my phone into my pocket.
“Charlotte!” Travis yelled, nearly plowing me over. “Can we go back to your apartment now?” He winked, which was more like a blink.