And really, that’s the summation of Eli.
He’s a helper. A father. A guide, of sorts. I watch him walk back into the kitchen and my world stops on a breath.
He picks up the wooden spoon, his glasses perched low on his nose. He lifts the stew lid, steam curling around his face as he leans in to take a whiff. It fogs up his glasses, and he slips them on top of his head before he stirs the stew. He takes out the spoon, licks it for a small taste, and that small dart of his tongue forces me to take another big gulp of ice water.
There’s something dangerously domestic about all of this.
My instincts love it.
But I can’t run on instinct alone. I have to make sure to keep a logical head.
“All right,” Eli says a few minutes later, “stew’s ready.” Then the oven goes off and Eli motions to it. “What do you want me to do with these?”
I wave my hand at him. “Turn the oven off but keep them inside. It’ll keep them warm until we get to dessert time.”
“Can we have dessert first? Pleeeease?” Amber asks.
“Nope,” Eli says as he brings the stew pot to the table. “Nourishment first, fun food after.”
“Awww,” Amber says as she juts out her lower lip in a pout.
Eli just boops his crooked knuckle against her pouty lip. “Tuck that back in or all the stew’s gonna roll off it.”
“Fine,” Amber mumbles.
“You need any help with anything?” I ask.
“Nope!” Eli chirps as he walks back into the kitchen to retrieve bowls and silverware. “You stay comfortable, I’m almost done.”
Yet all too soon, I hear my phone buzzing somewhere. I know it’s mine because the buzzing pattern is distinct. I set specific vibration patterns for each kind of notification.
According to the pattern I’m hearing, I’ve got a text message.
“Where’s my phone?” I ask.
Eli points. “Your purse is still on the couch.”
“Thanks,” I mumble as I stand.
I make my way over to the couch and fish my phone out. Yikes. My phone’s already down to 20%. I swipe away the notification about needing to charge it and focus on the text message that came rolling through.
I’m surprised when I see it’s Knox.
“Huh,” I murmur as I open the message.
“Everything okay?” Eli asks.
“Knox sent me a message.”
I expect Eli to ask what it’s about, but all he does is chuckle.
Though, when I open the message, I understand why.
Knox:If Eli got you today and Walker gets you tomorrow night, then I think it’s only fair your Sunday morning is mine, Sunshine. What do you say?
I smile at his text as a flurry of butterflies take off in my gut.
“I see the guys talk behind my back,” I say as I peer over at Eli.
