Was that… a sleeping bag?
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice harsher than it should have been.
“Good evening, Evie.” He broke into a charming grin. “And Vincent.”
He was wearing a blue T-shirt without a damn coat, when any sane person would be zipped up in a down parka right now.
I gritted my teeth at the sight of him. Why did he have to be all muscular and tattooed? It was annoying.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m camping,” he replied, his ever-present smile making my stomach warm. Damn him.
“Camping?”
“Yes. This.” He pointed at the rectangular item in a black zippered case he’d set on the driveway. “Is a tent.”
“Where are you camping?”
“I was thinking the lawn.” He put his hands on his hips, eyes bright. “If it’s okay with you.”
Confusion swirled in my head. “Why in God’s name are you camping here?”
“Because I want to be close by for you and Vincent.”
“Close by, like on my lawn?” What was his problem? This was ridiculous.
He shrugged. “It’s only trespassing if you don’t give me permission. So if you want me to move to the sidewalk, I can.”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, searching for the logic in his words. I came up empty.
“No,” I said. It was the easiest answer. “Why do you want to sleep on my lawn? It’s freezing out.”
He scanned the yard, an almost dopey look on his face, like he hadn’t noticed the temperature. “Eh, it’s May. I’m good.”
I blew out a loud breath. “Are you some kind of survivalist?”
He shook his head, his messy hair falling into his face. “Nah. I’m more of a softcore outdoorsman.”
“Softcore?” What the hell did that mean?
“Yup. I like my creature comforts, like tents and sleeping bags and warm mugs of hot cocoa around a campfire.”
Huh. That sounded pretty good, actually. Not that I would admit it.
“I still don’t understand why you’re here.”
“I’m here because I want to be close. To participate. To help.” He yanked a backpack out of the bed of his truck and set it at his feet. “I respect you and what you’re doing, and I don’t want to pressure you. Promise. But I can’t help but feel like I can be of use here. Vincent is my son, and I want to experience this phase of his life too.”
My heart sank. I couldn’t argue with him. He was entitled to see Vincent, and I understood the pull to be with him at all times.
“It’s okay that you don’t like having me in your house. But the farm is twenty minutes away. Response time is important.”
Now the guilt kicked in. Shit. Of course he didn’t think I liked having him in the house. Because honestly, I didn’t. I couldn’t handle the proximity.
I sighed. His reasoning made sense. He was a firefighter and paramedic, it was natural for him to be concerned about response time.
“So I’ll be here. Unless I’m working. If you need me, just yell.”
