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“Down.” Thatcher squirms against me and slips from my grip as I lean down to keep him from falling and busting his chin open.
“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath.
“It’s not every day that they have a petting zoo, face painting, amusement rides, and funnel cakes.”
“What?” I spin around on my heel to find Harbor smiling. Her eyes dance with merriment at my expense. Not that I blame her.
Shit. I have food-covered handprints splattered on my jeans and my T-shirt, and there’s a suspicious wet circle on my chest that is likely Thatcher’s drool from when he fell asleep for one glorious moment, and I didn’t have to chase him around anymore. And she looks the best she ever has. Hair piled high on her head. A white T-shirt that cups her breasts. And a pair of shorts that show off every inch of her golden skin.
“You look exhausted and beaten down by your niece and nephew, and I wanted to remind you it’s harder today than normal days because it’s a party day. At least that’s what I’m assuming.”
“You have a point.” I straighten my back as Thatcher climbs the first rung on the wooden gate. “I’ve watched them lots of times, and this is definitely the longest day.”
“Hey, little man.” Harbor lifts him up and raises him into the air. “Are you having fun?”
“Yep.” He laughs as she swings him in a circle. The relief I experience from someone showing up to distract him, makes me weak.
“Why don’t you come with me to grab a cookie or a cupcake?” She points to the booth on the way to the parking lot. The one her mom was manning sold out an hour ago. “Do you like red ones or blue ones?”
“Red!” He latches onto her like she’s his new best friend. “Football!” He points to the smeared brown paint that’s covered in dirt and partially erased from sweat.
“It looks amazing.” She grins at him and winks at me as he looks over at Sofia, who’s grabbing a handful of goat fur.
“Sof, come. Cake.”
“Cake?” Sofia climbs over the fence and drops down on our side. “Let’s go.”
Why didn’t I think of that? Because I’m freaking tired. How does Emilia do this on her own? Granted, she’s not alone. She has me, Ben, Mom, and Dad, but she should have the support of her deadbeat ex.
Sofia slips her hand into mine. “Thank you, Unc Co.”
I ruffle her soft, dark blonde curls and sigh. Even if I’m going to crash like the dead tonight, I did the right thing. They had a blast today. “How was the rest of the painting?”
We pass one of my old neighbors, who nods at us in greeting and whispers to the woman next to her. If we aren’t careful, we’ll be the talk of the town. That’s the problem with small-town living. In the city, people ignore you at all costs. In a small town, you avoid people at all costs if you want to keep a secret and everyone still finds out. Not that there’s anything to keep secret. We’re walking down the street at the same time. That’s all there is to it.
“Good.” We walk side by side toward the farthest booth. I inhale the scent of her perfume and tell myself not to react. I’ve had years of practice. It shouldn’t be hard. Anytime we’ve been together, I’ve had to pretend she doesn’t steal my breath. “The line didn’t stop until my replacement showed up. My hand has a cramp in it.” She laughs and wiggles her fingers.
“Ouch.” Before I realize what I’m doing, her hand is in mine, and I’m massaging her muscles.
She gasps, causing her perfect mouth to drop open and her tongue to brush over her lips. Jesus. Every muscle in my body tightens, including my dick.
“Does that hurt?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It feels good.”
I rub my thumb over her palm again for a few seconds, but when it starts to feel awkward, I drop it and clear my throat. “Be sure to ice it tonight.”
“Thanks.” She turns her head causing her brunette hair to fall from behind her ear, blocking my view of the curve of her cheek and the delicious line of her jaw and neck. I ache to place my lips on her skin and devour every inch of her.
“Well, here we are.” She deposits Thatcher on the ground and watches as he toddles to the booth, peering over the edge of the table as Sofia joins him.
“Thank you for helping me. I appreciate it.”
As they chatter, the booth operator’s eyes twinkle with delight as she shifts her attention back and forth between us and the kids. Gladys goes to church with my parents. Great. Now everyone is going to know I held Harbor’s hand in the middle of downtown.
“Her hand hurt,” I blurt out, and heat covers my cheeks.
“I bet it did.” Gladys winks and hands the kids the items they asked for.
