“Hi.” He takes a step out from behind his mom, still clutching her shirt.
“How’s the arm?”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore. Want to sign my cast?”
“Of course I do.” I pat down my pockets in a big show. “But I don’t have a pen.”
His face drops, and he lets out a big sigh. “It’s okay.”
Like hell if I’m gonna let that go. “I know I have some at the firehouse. Whataya say we head over there, and I can sign your cast? And maybe you guys would like to sit in the big fire truck?”
Micah looks up at Lucy, tugging on her shirt. “Pleeeease, Mama, can we?”
“Fire truck. Fire truck!” Levi chants.
“I guess we’re going to the firehouse,” she says with only a hint of exasperation.
“There’s two trucks and an ambulance. They can run around, push all the buttons, and it’s fully enclosed and staffed, so they can’t run off. And if they get hurt, you know you’ll get the best EMT in town,” I say, taking a step closer to her.
“Oh, is Hardy working today?” she quips, finally making eye contact with me, a hint of challenge in her emerald-green eyes. I like this fire in her.
I clutch my chest as I wince. “You wound me, Lucy.”
“Oh no, he has an ouchie,” Levi says, pointing at me. “Kiss it, Mama. Kiss his ouchie better.”
“Yeah, Mama, kiss it better,” I say.
Her eyes flick to my chest, then up to my lips, lingering briefly before she shakes her head quickly as if to snap herself out of what she’s feeling. “Mr. Mike is a big boy, I’m sure he doesn’t need kisses to feel better.”
“Yes, he does. They always make boo-boos better,” Levi insists.
I tilt my head at her, hoping she’ll listen to her little instigator. “I do. I need it to feel better,” I say, popping open a button with one hand and pulling the collar of my polo open to expose my pec.
“This is ridiculous,” she grumbles.
“You have to ask him where it hurts,” Levi adds.
I’m going to give this kid every piece of candy we have in the firehouse when this is over. I don’t think I’ve ever had a better wingman.
“Fine. Where does it hurt?” She rolls her eyes as she hoists Levi higher on her hip.
“Here.” I slowly trace the hard lines of my pec with a finger and revel in the way her eyes track the movement.
She exhales deeply as she slowly leans into my chest. When she’s millimeters away, she mutters an almost inaudible “so stupid” and literally pecks me like a chicken, her nose poking me more than anything. I don’t think she even puckered her lips.
“Not like that, Mama, like this.” Levi leans over, puckers his lips, and plants one on my shirt. There’s some sort of food residue still present on his face, and he smears it on the fabric, and I chuckle as Lucy’s eyes fixate on it.
“Oh jeez, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes are still stuck on the stain.
I shrug, unbothered. “I have a Tide pen at the firehouse.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, and I hold her stare, waiting for her to make the next move.
She glances around me instead. “Why is this taking so long?”
“Kiss his boo-boo, Mama,” Levi whines as Micah pokes his head out from behind her again, suddenly interested in our conversation.
“I need a good kiss, you know, to make sure my boo-boo fully heals.”
