“Oh, I can get it.” She starts for the cabinet, but I wrap my arms around her waist and hug her tightly to my chest.
“Let me take care of you today.”
Peering up at me under long lashes, her brown eyes sparkle. “Okay. Orange juice, please.”
“You got it.” I kiss her forehead and reluctantly release her so she can fix a plate before choosing the seat at the kitchen island next to Camden.
“Swoan, bite.”
I glance up in time to see Camden feeding her a bite of his pancake, and she takes it, chewing slowly, and exaggerating how good it is. My son smiles at her as if she’s the most remarkable thing he’s ever seen in his life, and all I can think is: Same, son. Same.
I pour her a glass of orange juice, and me a glass of milk, and take the seat next to her. We eat in comfortable silence. Even Camden is quiet as we finish our breakfast.
“Thank you, that was great, but I can’t eat another bite,” Sloane says, standing, grabbing her empty plate and mine, and taking them to the dishwasher.
“I thought I was taking care of you today?” I ask her.
She grins. “You made breakfast. I can clean up. That’s the least I can do.”
Before I can comment, my son slams his sippy cup down on the counter and says, “Ahh,” loud and dramatically, and we both laugh at him.
“You’re a ham,” Sloane says, looking at my son with a soft smile and so much affection in her eyes.
“Cam ham,” he repeats and falls into a fit of giggles.
“Come on, you.” I take off his bib, the kind that catches the mess—well, most of it anyway—and lift him into my arms, just as Sloane appears next to us with a baby wipe to wipe down his face. He wiggles, and I hold him tighter while sliding an arm around her waist at the same time as she cleans him up.
It feels intimate.
“There, all done.” She leans in and kisses his cheek, before tossing the baby wipe and cleaning up the rest of breakfast.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask them once we’re all in the living room.
“It’s supposed to rain,” Sloane says, “so the park is probably out of the question. We’re going to have to stay inside today.” Just as she says that, a crack of thunder hits. Cam freezes and runs toward the couch where Sloane and I are sitting. There’s a cushion between us, much to my dismay. I brace myself to catch him, but he surprises me when he runs straight for Sloane. She, too, is ready and lifts him into her arms and snuggles him close.
“Just a storm,” she tells him. “The sky is angry, and it’s telling us,” she explains.
“Sky sad,” he says, snuggling into her chest.
“Yes, but there’s nothing to be scared of,” she says, her arms wrapping tightly around him.
She might as well be hugging me, the way my body reacts to seeing the two of them together like this. Warmth washes over me, and it feels right. She feels right.
“Daddy’s lonely over here,” I tease.
“Daddy, sit.” Camden points to the spot next to Sloane, and I grin because my son is the best wingman ever.
I’d never use him to pick up a woman, but this is different. The woman we both want close is here in our home, and you can bet your ass I’m taking advantage of that. Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, I move to sit next to them, tossing it over the three of us. I put my arm around Sloane, and she immediately leans into me, before handing me the remote.
“What are we watching, Cam?” I ask my son.
“Vroom, vroom,” he says, and I know he wants to watch his favorite movie that has talking cars. I find what I’m looking for and hit the play button before settling back against the couch.
My son, who usually can’t sit still, rubs his hands over the soft blanket while snuggled in Sloane’s arms. Unable to stop myself, I kiss her temple and pull them a little closer. I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather be doing today on my day off than spending it just like this, with the two of them.
Chapter Fourteen
Sloane
