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He waited until I met his gaze to say, “Thank you.”
“It’s only plastic bags and some dollar store stickers and bubbles.”
“It’s incredibly thoughtful is what it is.”
I lifted my shoulder, biting back a smile.
“How was your night?” he asked, leaning in close to me. “Were any little asshole kids rude to you?”
I barked out a laugh. “You going to defend my honor against eight-year-olds?”
“If I have to.”
I pressed my hand to my heart and rested my head against his chest, swooning. “My hero.”
He offered me a lopsided smile as he smoothed his hand over my spine. With the near foot of height difference between us, it really did feel like he could protect me from anything—eight-year-olds, plush dinosaurs, or the voices in the back of my head telling me that I was a burden or too much work or not good enough. Because when he stared down at me with his fingertips curling into my lower back, I was enough.
Thiswas enough.
He didn’t seem in any rush for me to straighten up, and I had a hard time pushing away, yet I forced myself to take a big step back from him. “Can you see if Jude and Dylan want coffee?”
He gaze swept over me once before he turned away, murmuring what sounded like “Sure thing, angel.”
But that couldn’t be right.
Because I wasn’t an angel. And Professor Liam O’Neil would certainly never have a nickname for me.
Right?
FIFTEEN
LIAM
Aweek into November and things were really starting to look up. Finn was finally potty trained and making big strides with speech therapy, while I’d received a call that I was being invited back for another television interview. This time, I knew it would all go well.
I hung up my coat and bag then hopped up the steps to the second floor, where I heard Kennedy and my son in the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said, bursting around the corner to swing Finn up into my arms, kissing the top of his head.
Kennedy spun around, a bit of something on her chin. She smiled at me. “Hi.”
Without thinking, I wiped the white powder off her jaw, and she froze, her eyes wide, wisps of hair curling around her temples. “Sorry.” I motioned toward her chin. “You have…”
“I promised Finn we’d bake a pie with the apples we picked.”
I surveyed the ingredients on the counter and the chili simmering in the pot on the stove. After so many years of living on my own, I was truly spoiled by coming home to this.
“You’re amazing.”
She snorted a laugh. “Not really.”
I set Finn down and gently nudged her out of the way to wash my hands in the sink, my forearm skimming hers. “You are. You’re so good with Finn and…” I dried my hands then held them up, encompassing everything she’d done for me, for Finn, for the house. “You’re incredible.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It’s a very big deal,” I said, because even as she argued with me, she reached for a bowl and filled it up with chili, placing a toasted piece of crusty bread on top. I took it from her with a pointed stare, but she only offered a lighthearted giggle, as if she hadn’t completely changed my life within the last two months. As if I didn’t need her.
I sat at the table and Finn joined me, so I asked him, “Did you eat already?”
