Currently, they’re playing, and my son is laughing while petting Buddy, who is thriving under my son’s love. Gwen is joking and smiling with Caleb, giving him all of her attention. She’s perfect. Soft. Warm. Beautiful.
“Daddy! I won!” Caleb yells as Buddy jumps out of his lap and goes to Gwen looking for love. He immediately curls into her lap like he’s probably been doing his whole life—lucky dog.
My son hurls himself into my arms like a heat-seeking missile. I catch him easily, hugging him tight. Gwen grins at me over the dog’s fluffy head, which she immediately bends down to cuddle. God, I say it a lot, but she’s fucking perfect.
“I’m proud of you, Bub,” I tell my son.
“You gotta play with me, Daddy! Gwen played with me!”
“I can tomorrow,” I decline while ruffling his hair. “It’s bedtime now.”
“Aww, Dad! I want to play with Gwen more. Gwen, tell him!”
Gwen tries not to laugh—tries and fails. Then she surprises the hell out of me by brushing her fingers through Caleb’s hair and saying gently, “How about you get ready for bed, and I can read you a story once you’re tucked in?”
He lights up so brightly it hurts my chest. I doubt Dee has ever touched him that gently. She sure as hell has never spent an evening pouring her whole heart into giving him attention. I don’t have to wonder if she reads to him either. I know she doesn’t. “I like doing stuff with you, Gwen,” he says shyly.
Gwen immediately squats down and hugs him, sweet and solid. “Hey … just because you have to go to sleep doesn’t mean we can’t do things tomorrow. You can help me make breakfast in the morning and later the two of us can make Christmas cookies.”
“Christmas cookies?” he repeats like she just offered him a trip to the moon.
“Yep! Though we might have to run out for breakfast so I can grab my cookie cutters—or we can buy new ones for you and your dad. Do you know what cookie cutters are?”
“No,” he says.
“They make your cookies look like Christmas trees, stockings … I like the snowman best. I can’t decorate them pretty, though. I’m going to need your help for that.”
“Awesome! I wanna make snowmen!”
Gwen laughs—warm and soft—and I swear something in me snaps. It’s all I can do to keep from yelling out mine and claiming her.
“I also have Grinch cookie cutters,” she adds.
Caleb gasps. “The Grinch!?!”
“And Max, his dog.”
“Tomorrow is gonna be the best day ever! We can watch the movie too! Right?”
“We sure can,” she tells him. “You’re going to need lots of energy, though, so you really need to go to sleep now.”
“Okay!” He bolts toward his room.
When he disappears down the hall, I look at Gwen. “Come here,” I order gruffly.
She stands and walks to me slowly, studying me. I reach out, take her hand, and tug her down onto my chest. She lands soft and warm, sprawled across me like she belongs there.
“Wyatt,” she gasps.
I brush her hair from her face. “My son loves you.”
She blushes. “He’s a sweet kid. He loves everyone.”
“No,” I say, voice low. “He doesn’t, honey. Caleb’s shy with most everyone unless it’s me and the guys. But with you? He’s already attached.”
She looks worried. I can see it in her eyes.
“Is that bad?” she asks, nibbling on her lip.
