The movie ends just after nine, and the bedtime routine unfolds with all the chaos a late-night movie incurs.
Matthew drags his feet about brushing his teeth until I challenge him to a "who can make the biggest toothpaste foam" contest. He wins, of course, foam dripping down his chin as he grins triumphantly at his reflection.
Zoe rolls her eyes but she's smiling as she heads to her room, clutching her phone even though she knows it'll be turned off by parental controls in ten minutes.
I do the usual checks: nightlight on for Matthew, window cracked for Zoe, water glasses filled, Mr. Gears positioned just right.
"Night, Noah," Matthew murmurs sleepily, already half-asleep.
"Night, buddy."
Zoe's door is cracked open, and I pause outside. "You good?"
"Yeah." She looks up from her book. "Thanks for tonight. It was fun."
"Anytime, Zoe."
I close her door quietly and head downstairs.
Rika is cleaning up the living room, folding blankets and stacking bowls. She looks up when I appear, and the soft smile she gives me makes my chest ache.
"They're down," I tell her.
"Good." She sets the last bowl on the coffee table. "I'll be down in twenty minutes."
"I'll be waiting."
I'm in my apartment for maybe ten minutes when the knock comes. I open the door and pull her inside, my mouth finding hers before the door even closes.
She gasps against my lips, her hands fisting in my shirt, and I back her against the wall, kissing her like I've been starving for her all night.
Because I have been.
"Missed you," I murmur against her throat.
"You saw me twenty minutes ago." She laughs breathlessly.
"Twenty minutes too long."
I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her body pressed against mine. Her wings flutter behind her, the tips brushing my arms, and I groan.
"I need to grab you something to drink or we'll just have sex and sleep," I say reluctantly, pulling back. "I want to savor being with you tonight. What do you want? Wine? Beer?"
"Wine sounds perfect."
I head toward the kitchenette, leaving Rika by the small dining table. My phone sits there, face up, and I'm halfway to the fridge when it buzzes loudly.
"Your phone's going off," Rika calls.
I glance back and see the notification lighting up the screen as Rika holds up the phone for me. My lips lift when I see the name: Sharnia Jarvis. It's been a few weeks since I last heard from them, and that warm, familiar squeeze hits me right in the chest.
"That's Sharnia Jarvis, the mom from my last nanny placement." I grab two wineglasses from the cabinet. I can't help the grin. "Sharnia loves sending me videos of her and the kids. Little updates. It's her thing."
Rika's smile turns soft and cozy at this.
"Go ahead and play it," I tell her. "You'll see. Those kids are adorable, you'll love them."
The video starts. Sharnia fills the frame, close up, warm light on her copper-gold scaled cheeks, her hair piled messily on top of her head. I just know she's been wrangling the twins all day and she's exhausted. Then I frown. There's no Derryn, no kids climbing into the camera, no chaos. Just her. She looks excited as she holds the phone to record her video.
