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His antics make both Wyn and me laugh, and I stare as her face transforms into something soft and relaxed.
Warmth blooms in my chest at the sight, and I catch her eye.
She winks, and I nearly choke on my orange chicken.
Jake distracts me by flicking a noodle straight at my face.
“Think fast!”
I catch it between my razor-sharp teeth, and to my surprise, Wyn claps instead of reprimanding us.
After dinner, I follow Jake into the living room when Wyn shoos us away to pick up.
A nearby bookshelf displays pictures of my gorgeous mate and her son.
Something inside of me pings, and I realize I’m looking at my family-to-be.
They just don’t know I’m part of it now.
The familiar tang of Wyn’s disappointment wafts over to me, breaking up my thoughts, and I glance at her.
She’s staring at her fridge, her lips turned down.
From her reaction earlier, I know she’s dreading having it fixed—if it even can be.
The ancient-looking appliance probably costs more to repair than to just get a new one.
“Do Boggarts really taste emotions?” Jake asks, dragging my attention from his mom to him.
“Sure do.”
He wrinkles his nose, trying to puzzle it out in his head how that works.
“Does anything taste like lima beans?”
I swallow a chuckle. “Do lima beans taste good or bad to you?”
Jake makes a face. “Bad.”
“Right. Sorry, I can’t say I’ve tried a lima bean. Tell you what, I’ll eat one and tell you if any emotion is like it.”
“Good. It probably tastes like farts. Don’t tell Mom I said the ‘f’ word.”
Now, I lose it, howling with laughter at his sweet innocence.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Wyn demands, coming over.
“Nothing,” Jake and I chime together.
Wyn narrows her dark eyes, clearly not believing either of us.
This woman doesn’t take shit from anyone—exactly why I hired her in the first place.
“Jake is going to teach me how to build a Lego fort.”
The little boy bounces over to Wyn, and she hands him a fortune cookie before passing me one.
