I set Max down and follow Chase. “What were you doing in the bathroom?”
“Cleaning my shirt.”
“What happened to your shirt?” I look down. There’s an outline of what looks like a stain smack-dab in the middle of his stomach.
“The ketchup bottle exploded when I was making Max his fish sticks for lunch. I had to clean it off and then I ended upmaking a bigger mess on my shirt and had to use the hair dryer so it wasn’t sopping wet.”
I try to fight the smile, but I can’t. “I don’t know who’s messier, you or Max.”
“I resent that.” Chase points a finger at me. “Clearly it’s Max. I had to do a load of laundry because he spilled his lunch everywhere and then decided he wanted to make dirt cups with real dirt.”
“Of course he did.”
“We had fun, but I made sure to give him a bath after,” Chase says.
“I appreciate it.” I turn my attention back to my son. “This means no TV time this weekend, okay?”
Max nods his head. At four years old, it’s hard to dole out punishments, but hopefully it won’t cause too big of an issue come Sunday.
“Okay, Mommy.”
“I’m going to go change, so say goodbye to Uncle Chase and then you can help me make cookies.”
“Cookies?” His eyes light up. “Okay!”
“Why are you making cookies?” Chase asks.
I set Max down. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m making them for Sam. He helped me out the other day when my car broke down.”
“Dad has good friends.” Chase smiles. “I’m glad he was able to help you out.”
“Me too.”
In more ways than one. The memory of feeling his lips on mine carries me into my bedroom as I change into leggings and a T-shirt.
Sam Shaw kissed me. I thought these feelings I had were one-sided. Except the only thought in my head when he pressed his lips against mine wasit’s about damn time.
I’ve never felt anything so good before. I’ve been missingout these last few years if this is what it should be like. Hell, Sam Shaw should teach a master class in kissing.
Except I don’t want him kissing anyone but me.
Max and Chase’s conversation hits my ears as I head back out. There’s not much room in my apartment. My bedroom is big enough for my bed and a dresser. I have to share Max’s closet with him. The worst is sharing a bathroom. Not ideal, but we get by.
“Are you ready to make cookies?” I ask.
“And that’s my cue to leave. I don’t need any more stains,” Chase says.
“Bye, Uncle Chase.” Max waves goodbye.
“See you this weekend. Tell Rylee I said hi.”
“I will.” A dopey grin washes over his face. Even though they’ve been dating for two years, they are still crazy in love. I wish it was something I had.
Until then, it’s more bad dates and longing for attention from a certain cowboy.
“Are you ready to help?” I ask Max.
He pushes his step stool from one side of the counter to the other. “Yes.”
