"You're the only sugar I need, baby," his voice drops into a low rumble that I can practically feel in my lower tummy.
I'm dragging that man back to our house one way or another tonight.
"Atlas..." I trail off, my voice breathy.
"I'm good," he laughs. "I just miss you."
"You saw me like an hour ago."
"Still too long without you."
"Cornball," I giggle. "I'll see you in a bit. I love you."
"Drive safe, I—Noah, don't run, there's glass—I love you too—Liam, get your brother—"
I laugh as the line goes dead, and my smile widens even more when I see the light ahead turn green just as I get to the intersection.
I've got good luck today,I think—eager to see my husband, my boys, my family.
I don't even see it coming.
I feel an impact and then—
Nothing.
Chapter Forty
Atlas
March
"Noah, don't run, there's glass—I love you too—Liam, get your brother out of the kitchen!" I shout, walking back into the kitchen and glancing down to realize I ended the call.
Damn.
Well, I'll see her in a couple of minutes and apologize then,thoroughly.That thought makes me smile, but I have to get this glass cleaned up before someone—Noah, most likely—steps on it.
Mom and Dad already went to the utility closet to grab the mop and broom. Noah had yelled about helping after finding out he was getting a snack and disappeared that way with them, running without a care in the world near the glass minefield.
"Daddy! I got the dust pan!" Noah says, this time making a wide berth around the glass and racing over to me. I sweep him up into the air with one arm, taking the dustpan with the other. "Liam!"
My teenager strolls lazily back into the kitchen, his head still buried in his phone, no doubt texting his girlfriend.
"What?" He asks, finally glancing up at me. I give him a look, and he sheepishly puts his phone back in his pocket as I carry Noah over to him, plopping my youngest in his arms.
"Take this."
Liam hikes his giggling brother over his broad shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Where you want it?"
"Both of you stay in the living room for a bit until we get thisglass cleaned up," I say, and Liam turns and disappears through the doorway just as my mom and dad come back.
My dad, still in his heavy boots, starts sweeping the glass and I bend to pick up the larger pieces from the floor.
Mom puts her hands on her hips, "Atlas, be careful—"
"Mom," I sigh, shooting her a look. "I operate heavy machinery all day, I think I'll be fine with a little glass—oh fuck!"
Her face is completely unamused as I pluck the small piece of glass from my thumb, blood welling up from the small cut.
