I laugh to myself. “Nice try, but it’s unfortunately not going to light like this.”
“I just did what you do.”
“Sweetie, this is not how I do it.”
“Well, from what I see, you just throw in a few logs and—voilà—it’s a fire.”
I can’t help but laugh. “No. Want me to teach you?”
“Sure.”
I move over to give her a better view and grab some newspaper.
“This comes first.” I crumple it into a loose ball and set it in the middle of the stove, right between the few glowing coals I found buried under the log she’d put in. I grab the kindling next, stacking it in a small teepee over the paper, slipping a few thicker pieces between the gaps.
“Oh…honey, I’m not much of a builder,” she says, unsure, laughing.
“Trust me, it’s not hard.” I lean in and blow at the base. The smoke increases and soon the newspaper fully lights. “See? Then you just wait until the kindling catches and add a slightly bigger piece to it. But not a full-size log.” I glare at her playfully. She snickers.
“You know, when we get married, it’ll just be easier for you to do this and I won’t have to stress.”
“I know. But I don’t want you to stress. It’s not hard.”
“I know.” She puts Emma up on her shoulder to burp and I add a little more wood to the flames.
I watch her carry her back to the room and she comes out a second later, shutting the door carefully behind her. Monitor in hand, no crying yet.
“She’s going down by herself good still?”
“Yeah. For now,” she mutters, eyes flicking to the monitor.
I stand and walk toward her, and before I get much closer, she opens her arms for a hug.
I want to stay right here, wrapped up like this with her. I miss her.
I tuck my chin down for a kiss, but she turns her head.
“I have morning breath,” she says quickly.
“I don’t care.” I slide my hand to her jaw, guiding her lips back to mine and kiss her anyway.
She lets me, but when I try to deepen it, she pulls back with a grimace. “It’s gross, Cody.”
“Well, if we’re gonna get married someday, you’re gonna have to get used to it. Morning breath, bed hair, your grumpy attitude before you’ve had your coffee, I want it all.” I grin.
She pushes me. “Nuh-uh.”
“Yes.” I laugh, kissing her again.
Speaking of marriage…just two weeks ago, Wesley had me, my parents, Jesse, and Mason all gathered in the living room to ask for my sister’s hand. And as much as I want to hold on to this idea of her still being a ten-year-old little girl who was scared of Bigfoot, Addison’s grown. And she and Wesley were made for each other.
Relationships are hard. Life is hard. Both she and Wesley’s work life can be grueling. And I worry about her balancing it all. I can barely balance it myself, no matter how put-together I might seem on the outside.
Karissa bites my bottom lip, slow and deliberate, her hand sliding up my back. Heat rolls through me, spreading fast, and for a second, I’m convinced this is the reason I walked throughthe door in the first place. But it’s not. I came to get the fire going, nothing more. I’ve got clients waiting.
“I gotta go,” I mutter, pulling back, breath shallow as I press my forehead to hers.
“I know.”
