“You sure you’re good?”
“I’m sure.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but I was much better than I’d been last night and that was enough for now.
“Okay then.” He kissed me one last time, then climbed out of bed, holding out his hand. “Come on. If we don’t get down there soon, they’ll have dumped half the syrup bottle on the counter.”
I let him pull me up, and we made our way downstairs together. In the kitchen, the girls had indeed gotten into thesyrup, though Alice had at least managed to get it onto a plate rather than directly on the counter. They were debating pancake shapes when we walked in.
“Can you make them look like butterflies?” Audrey asked Cam.
“I can try,” he said, moving to the stove. “But they might end up looking more like blobs with wings.”
“That’s okay,” Alice said generously. “Blobs are good too.”
I took a seat at the kitchen table, unable to drag my eyes away from Cam. He moved around the kitchen like he was performing a choreographed dance he knew by heart. Crack an egg. Whisk the batter. Help Alice find the chocolate chips. Remind Audrey to use her inside voice.
He caught me watching and smiled, something private and just for me, before turning back to pour batter onto the griddle.
Something tight in my chest unspooled.
It was just breakfast. It was loud and messy and sticky. Yet, sitting here at his table in my pajamas, I was more grounded than I had ever been in the silent, pristine rooms of my parents’ house. This was what safe looked like.
“Emily, do you want chocolate chips in yours?” Alice asked, holding up the bag.
“Definitely.”
“Me too!” She climbed onto the chair next to me. “Daddy says too many chocolate chips turns them into cookies, but I think that’s silly. Cookies for breakfast sounds amazing.”
“I’m with you on that one.”
Cam flipped a pancake with more force than necessary, giving me a look that said he’d heard that exchange and I was not helping his case for moderation.
I just smiled at him.
When the first batch was ready, Cam plated them and brought them over. He’d managed something vaguely butterfly-shaped for Audrey, and Alice’s was indeed heavy on the chocolate chips. He set a plate in front of me, his hand brushing my shoulder as he moved past, the touch lingering just a second longer than necessary, making me shiver in the most delicious way.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
“Anytime.”
We ate together, the girls chattering about their plans for the day. Cam had taken the seat next to me and his arm rested along the back of my chair. Every so often his fingers would drift down to brush my shoulder, or his knee would bump mine under the table, little touches that somehow felt anything but little.
When breakfast was done and the dishes were cleared, Alice tugged on my hand. “Can we watch a movie? Please? You can pick!”
I looked at Cam, uncertain if maybe I’d outstayed my welcome now that breakfast was done.
“I said you were welcome to stay as long as you like. I meant it.” His eyes locked on mine and his voice dropped lower. “Stay. Please.”
“Okay,” I said, doing my best to ignore the way my stomach flipped. “I’ll stay.”
The cheers the girls let out sure did good things to my ego. They took off toward the living room, discussing which movie to watch first.
I moved to follow them, but Cam caught my wrist and pulled me back toward him. His other hand came up, his fingers threading through my hair as he dipped his head, kissing me with way more heat than was safe with his daughters in the next room.
EMILY
Isat in my car outside my parents’ house, staring at the perfectly manicured lawn and the hanging baskets my mother changed with the seasons.
My hands were still gripping the steering wheel even though I’d turned off the engine three minutes ago.
