“Eighty-fifth percentile,” I bragged, my heart lifting.
He chuckled. “I’m convinced he’s a genius.”
“Of course he is.”
“The way he makes eye contact and listens to me when I talk to him about how to tap a maple tree.” Jasper shook his head. “He gets it. Sometimes I feel like we should tell someone, but I like keeping our super baby genius to ourselves.”
“Me too.” I laughed.
He crouched and plucked two baby toys from the floor. “He must get it from you. I’m dumb as a box of rocks.”
My stomach twisted at the seriousness in that comment. That was absurd. “No you’re not.”
He looked up at me, his expression sweet and trusting, like always. “Nah. But it’s okay. School was never really my thing. Josh is the super smart one. Brilliant even. But me?” He liftedone shoulder and dropped the toys in the basket where they belonged. “I could never sit still long enough. I wanted to be in the mountains or jumping into a cold pond. Not doing calculus.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” I said. “You’re a paramedic. Work like that takes real brain power.”
“Eh. Maybe. I had to study like hell. Took all the prep courses, Jenn and Josh quizzed me constantly, and because I already worked for the fire department, I got to shadow a few folks.”
“Don’t talk down about yourself,” I chastised. “Vincent will hear that, and we can’t allow it. You’re his hero.”
He laughed.
“I mean it,” I urged. “You’re his dad, and his face lights up when you’re here.”
Jasper smiled. “He’s four months old, Evie.”
I crossed my arms, head tilted. “I’m his mom. I can decode all his looks and cries and giggles. Yet he is obsessed with you. It’s annoying.”
“Okay, mama bear. I believe you.” Once he’d gathered up the rest of the toys and put them into the basket, he stood to his full height, smoothing down his shorts. “What if I got him a tiny hatchet? So we could be twinsies.”
I scoffed. “Absolutely not.”
He took a step toward me, his eyes dancing. “Pretty please?”
“Not on your life, Lawrence. No weapons. He can’t even roll over yet.”
“He will soon. Baby genius and all. He’ll be tapping trees and climbing mountains next week. You’re raising a Vermont boy, so you better watch out. We’re kind of feral.”
The way he said that last part made my insides heat. Especially when he was sitting in front of me shirtless, that thin line of hair that trailed down his stomach and disappearing into his shorts, distracting me.
“Here,” I threw the T-shirt at him, then shuffled to the kitchen to hide the way my face burned. God, what was wrong with me?
I hated being wrong. Despised it.
But I couldn’t deny any longer just how wrong I’d been about this man. I’d written him off as a fuck boy. A hot guy I let myself have a single night of fun with.
Yet every day, he showed me that he was so much more. It had taken me this long to appreciate it all, but along with the appreciation came a good deal of confusion. About how I felt about him. About the way he looked at me.
“Want some dinner?” I asked, desperate to move on.
“Sure.”
I busied myself in the kitchen, making turkey sandwiches. Basil had dropped off fresh bread and Brie, so I could get fancy.
Jasper continued picking up the living room, folding the pile of laundry on one end of the couch and digging a binkie out of the cushions. He had put on my NYU shirt, and each time he lifted his arms, it rode up to reveal his abs.
Not that I noticed or anything.
