Sadie’s eyes gleamed. “‘I Color Outside the Lines’—no, wait–‘Warning: May Spontaneously Giggle’!”
“No,” Danny said, eyes shining. “We put ‘I Color Outside the Lines’ on Sam’s door. And he gets the broccoli one.”
Sadie nodded. “Sam needs to laugh more.”
The printer whirred. Stickers rolled out in uneven sheets, some slightly off-center, others with typos. “Look,” Blake pointed, “‘Fragiel–Handle with Candy’.”
“Perfect.” Danny bounced on his toes like a boxer ready to step into the ring. “Unhinged spelling. Very on brand.”
A sudden sound at the half-open door made all of them freeze. “Are you being naughty without me?” Lori stood just outside the craft room, hands on her hips and one brow raised. Her pigtails were slightly crooked, and her mismatched socks peeked out above her sneakers.
“You’re supposed to be taking a nap,” Blake hissed, but he didn’t sound very convincing.
“I tried.” His Little sister marched in like she owned the place. “But somebody wasn’t there for snuggle cuddles, and then I heard the printer, and then I smelled glitter glue.” She pointed accusingly at Sadie. “You’re up to something.”
Sadie held up her hands. “We plead the fifth.”
Lori narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Never mind.”
Danny grinned. “Well, since you’re here…” He waved a hand at the chaos of cut paper, sticker rolls, and half-written slogans. “Wanna help?”
“Duh.” Lori skipped over and flopped onto the rug beside them. “I’m an Authorized Glitter Technician, remember?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Sadie reached into her overall pocket and pulled out a small Ziplock bag. “Googly eyes?”
Lori gasped like she’d been handed the keys to the kingdom. “You do love me.”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Blake warned. “Then we deploy.”
“Operation Chaos is a go,” Lori whispered, dramatically peeling off a backing sheet.
By the time they’d cut out three dozen designs, their fingers were gummy from peeling corners and rearranging the crooked ones. There were stickers on the table, under the table, on Blake’s sock, and—somehow—on the back of Danny’s hoodie.
“‘No pants, no problem’?” Blake offered.
“Too suggestive,” Danny said, though he wrote it down anyway.
“‘Time-outs are for quitters’?” Sadie grinned.
“Only if you want Master Derek to go full Dom,” Danny muttered.
“‘Caution: Sugar-fueled menace’.”
“Blake, that one’s your autobiography.”
The door clicked shut behind him as Easton entered Derek’s office, that rich scent of leather and old books a familiar greeting. The mahogany desk still looked like it belonged to a man with too many responsibilities and not enough time to deal with them, but today it felt less imposing than usual. Maybe it was the way Derek stood with his hip propped against the edge, arms loosely crossed, and half a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Across from him, Sam nursed a cup of tea, legs comfortably stretched out like he didn’t have a care in the world. The steam curled lazily upward, perfuming the space with something earthy like chamomile, most likely. The scent was completely unlike the nerves fizzing just under Easton’s skin.
“There he is,” Derek greeted as Easton stepped further in.
Easton gave a slight nod, then glanced toward Sam, who gestured to the open seat beside him. As Easton lowered himself into the chair, he noticed the way the tension in his own shoulders lingered. Apparently, he was not quite ready to let his guard fall all the way. His hands clenched around the armrest on the way down, and for a second, he didn’t sit, just let himself hover between decisions.
“You still look tired,” Sam observed in that quiet way of his. “But better.”
Easton wiggled his head, considering Sam’s words. “I feel... steadier.” Easton admitted after a moment. “Danny helps. So do our sessions.”
