“Can I have cereal?” Miles asked.
“Little bowl,” Noah said. “We’re not doing second dinner at midnight.”
I poured a modest amount of cereal into a bowl with shaking hands, then added milk and slid it toward Miles at the table.Sassy trotted in, sniffing his feet like she was checking for crumbs.
“Hi, Sass,” he said, calmer now, rubbing her head. “You missed my dragon dream.”
“That sounds terrifying,” I said. “Was she a nice dragon or the steal-your-gold kind?”
“Nice,” he said through a mouthful of cereal. “She let me ride her.”
“Obviously,” I said. “She’s a lady.”
My heart rate finally began to drop fromwill definitely have a stroketo merelycardio class.I risked a glance at Noah.
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching Miles with this soft, tired expression that did something awful and warm to my insides. His jaw was still tight, though. When he felt me looking, his gaze flicked to mine.
For a second, the kitchen went silent in my ears. It was just…him. The man who’d confessed he’d wanted me for years. The one who’d kissed me like I was oxygen and he’d been drowning. How could that be? How had I not known or realized? I needed time to unpack that.
My cheeks burned. I snapped my attention back to Miles.
“Sweetheart,” I said, aiming for normal. “After your cereal, do you want me to tuck you back in?”
His eyes lit up. “With a story?”
“Sure,” I said. “We can continue the saga of Tree Monster Kevin.”
He beamed. “Yes. He needs a dragon friend.”
“Perfect,” I said, ignoring the way Noah’s mouth tugged at the corner like he remembered how much I loved these ridiculous bedtime sagas. “We’ll interview candidates.”
Miles polished off his cereal like it was his job. I rinsed the bowl, set it in the sink, then held out my hand. “Come on, champ. Bedtime, round two. Sorry I missed your earlier one.”
He slid off the chair and grabbed my fingers, dinosaur tucked under his arm. “’Night, Uncle Noah.”
“Night, bud.” Noah’s voice softened. “Love you.”
“Love you,” Miles mumbled, already yawning as I led him down the hall.
As soon as we were out of the kitchen, my brain started screaming again.
I’d kissed Noah, and he kissed me back. God, it was probably the best kiss I’d ever had in my life? Okay, yeah, no question about it.
In Miles’s room, things were easier. There were rules here. Scripts. Get him into bed. Adjust the nightlight. Make sure his dinosaur was on guard duty.
I tucked the blanket around him and launched into the story, letting my voice and hands do the work almost on autopilot.
“…and then Tree Monster Kevin realized he didn’t want to scare people anymore,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “So he applied for the dragon program.”
“The what?” Miles asked sleepily, blinking up at me.
“The dragon program,” I repeated solemnly. “Rigorous training. Lots of interviews. You have to prove you won’t burn down villages. Very competitive.”
He giggled. “Did he get in?”
“Well, the dean of dragons, who may or may not have been Sassy in a tiny hat, pulled his file and said, ‘Kevin, do you know the difference between roasting marshmallows and roasting villagers?’”
Miles snorted. “What’d he say?”
