I stared up at him and condensed my “everything” discussionto one question.
“Are we really doing this?”
“We are absolutely doing this.”
Happiness blossomed in me.
So, of course, my face crumpled, and I cried some more.
Darius held me through it.
Sheltering my storm.
ChapterFourteen
Chicken Montana
I woke, stretched, my wrist hit something, and Iopened my eyes.
It was just dawn, the light coming in from outside was weak,but I could see I’d knocked the new toothbrush head that Darius had put on hispillow off said pillow.
I smiled.
Then I looked around, but Darius wasn’t there.The bathroomdoor was open, so he must be up already.
I nabbed the toothbrush head, threw the covers back, and inDarius’s thermal, which I put on after our second round last night (findingsomething good about Liam having a whole level to himself, with another onesandwiched in between), I padded to the bathroom.
I did my business, got dressed and headed downstairs, makinga mental list of what to pack to bring over and wondering if I had time atlunch to run out and double up on some toiletries.
Once I hit the downstairs, I heard male voices coming fromthe kitchen and headed that way.
I stopped in the door.
So much was happening last night, I didn’t get to take amoment to really watch father and son interact.
Now I saw Liam sitting at a stool at the long island thatwas the centerpiece of the big kitchen, eating eggs and bacon and toast withgrape jelly, his back to me, but doing this like he’d lived there all his life,not just every other week for the last five months.
Darius was standing across from him wearing a long-sleevedHenley, this one in burnt orange, and jeans.
He had his weight braced into his hands at the edge of thecounter, spread out to the sides, and his gaze on me.
He looked like the master of his domain, which he was, andthat domain he’d created was amazing, like he was.
Liam caught his dad looking at me and peered over hisshoulder my way.
“Carry on,” I said softly.“I want to watch.”
“You’re not going to cry again, are you?”Liam asked.
“I make no promises.”
He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips, and wentback to his food.
“Come in, baby.I’ll make you breakfast before you gottahead home,” Darius invited.
“’Kay,” I mumbled and wandered in.
I took a seat next to my son.
