“Up we go,” I murmur, keeping one hand on the small of her back as she takes the first step.
Behind us, Noah sets the alarms, then he urges Mercer to go ahead of him so he can safely follow him up.
Once we reach the landing, I pause.
Noah’s room has been off limits, and I want to respect that. Respect him. Confirm that he’s really okay with taking this step.
Without slowing, Noah skirts past us and ushers us into the room.
The space is decorated in rich autumn tones. It’s sparse, with only a dresser, a vanity, two side tables, and a massive bed, but it’s warm and inviting.
Shiloh perks up and tilts her head, tail wagging, as we file in.
“Does Shiloh always sleep up here?” Sawyer asks.
Noah shrugs. “She’s a snuggler. She loves to sleep in the bed.”
“Shiloh and I are claiming the middle.” Sawyer sashays over to the bed, yanks back the covers and crawls in.
“Merce, you take the left side so you can protect your shoulder,” I suggest.
He nods silently, and because I can’t let an opportunity like this pass, I call his name again.
When he turns, I say, “Good boy.”
Noah snorts.
Mercer glares. “There’ll be none of that tonight, Tremblay. Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”
Smirking, I circle the bed and pull back the covers on the other side. “Ah, come on, prof. You know I always finish.”
Sawyer, who’s now spread out like a starfish on the bed, giggles.
Her giddiness inspires a warm, floaty feeling in the hollow of my chest.
“Enough, you two. It’s been a long day,” Noah grouses. “We all need a good night’s sleep.”
Sawyer’s eyes flash with glee. “Okay, Daddy.”
With a low growl, he crawls up the bed and hovers over Sawyer, covering her in kisses until she’s squealing and kicking her legs.
Only when Shiloh barks does he pull back, smiling. “I love you, honey.”
He loves her. They both do.
I’ve loved her for years. And now I really get to love her out loud, forever.
It takes a little time to figure out who’s limbs go where and what’s best for Mercer’s arm and Noah’s back. For tonight, I resist making any jibes about his age. Low back jokes will keep.
Sawyer falls asleep first, softly snoring in the crook of my arm, her hair fanned out on the pillows at our head.
“Okay?” Mercer asks Noah.
“More than okay,” he responds.
I close my eyes, a calm, quiet peace settling over me.
I’m safe and I’m home.
