Holden’s eyes snap open wide. He also flinches, but his strong arms hold me in place, making sure I don’t go flying off this couch.
“Coach Clay.” She salutes. “Vero is still sleeping, but I would suggest you two either move this cuddling session to your bedroom, or get up and start making breakfast. Either works.”
“Bella, this is?—”
“What? Not what it looks like? Do you know what it looks like?” she asks. This is a trap.
I giggle, so I don’t cry. We’ve been so careful around them not to even kiss, and here we are, getting caught cuddling. I sit up, dragging my lap blanket over my dress. “No, I don’t know what it looks like.”
Her chuckle is so comical, there’s nothing to do but laugh with her. “It looks like you two had fun last night and then fell asleep playing UNO.” The cards strewn on the wooden coffee table with half-full glasses of water are the indicator. We started watching a movie; I think that’s when we fell asleep.
“Guilty,” Holden finally mutters.
“Sounds like you had fun, and it works for me. Now, are you making breakfast, or do you want me to?”
“I can. Just give me a few,” I reply, brushing sleep off my face.
“Good. The book I started last night finally got interesting. I’m going to finish that.” She disappears through the dark hallway into her room.
Well, that’s a first.
“I cannot believe we fell asleep.”
“Come here.” Holden holds my hand and pulls me into his chest. “Good morning, Beauty.”
I drop a peck on his full lips. “Good morning.”
“A man can get used to waking up like this.”
“How?” I tease, my hands roaming his chest. Ilovehis chest.
“With the love of his life in his arms.”
Damn it, he’s going to make me cry early in the morning.
“No tears. Come on, let’s make breakfast for our girls.”
Our girls.The words catch in my throat, but of course, as perceptive as he is, he can see the turmoil immediately.
“Too soon?” he asks.
“No. Not at all.”
I change into more comfortable clothes as Holden cooks. Breakfast on a Sunday morning, wearing a ball gown, did not seem like a good idea. Holden’s wearing a pair of my sweatpantsand one of my oversized shirts that fit him just fine. The pants are a little baggy on him, but perfect, nonetheless. Breakfast is ready, and when we’re ready to sit down to eat, I get an idea.
“How do you feel about a picnic?” I ask Holden, who eyes me in question. As I point at the swing, he gets all the answers he needs.
He holds my hand, squeezing gently. “Breakfast picnic sounds like a great idea.” We pack the egg bites, pancakes, and bacon in the picnic basket the girls and I use on our little adventures, but today, I want to share this moment, and want to make new memories with him.
“Picnic by the swing!” I shout, waiting for them to storm in and rush by us—which they do. Both run to see who’ll make it to the swing first. Holden brings the basket as I drag a picnic blanket with me.
Bella pushes Vero on the swing while we set up the picnic under the oak tree. They join us, each grabbing a plate and piling them full of goodies. Bella props herself against the tree while Vero finds comfort on Holden’s lap.
“Do you need help?” he asks her as she tries to figure out how to eat a pancake.
“Nope. I can do it,” she replies, and he lets her, always respecting her independence, even if it’s the hardest thing to watch. She eventually gives up on the fork and just holds the pancake with her fingers. So resourceful.
“So, Holden…” Bella mentions, not finishing her sentence, and just looking at the swing. “You said you wanted to know more about Dad, right?”
