One look from either of my kids, their happy-go-lucky smiles and excited squeals of delight as we decorated their bedrooms, silenced all of my spite.
Erased all of my doubts about Travis and Eli.
Watching Eli carry boxes of his own into the house, a sheepish look on his face as he hung clothes up in the massive closet in the primary bedroom, that did something else to me too.
Somehow, Travis had perfected a home for all of us, without even knowing we were the ones he would share it with. But now that we were, it was hard to ignore how perfect it was for all of us.
But my anxiety was high as I blew my bangs back from my face, trying not to mess up my subtle and soft makeup look as I mixed yet another pie dough together.
The first one I made ripped, and the apple pie filling exploded out of it in the oven. Which just would not do, given that Travis’s parents were coming over for dinner, to meet me and the kids, and ithadto be perfect.
“Mmh,” Eli hummed, leaning over the pie explosion, “This looks delicious.”
I huffed with a snort, “It looks like a volcano.”
“I bet it tastes delicious.” He pushed, and I cracked a smile, already tracking his motive even as his warm hands danced over my hips as he pressed his body against mine, leaning as far as possible to get near the pie-splosion cooling on the windowsill.
I tried desperately to ignore how I was wearing a thin cotton bathrobe under my apron, desperate not to mess my outfit up while baking before Mr. and Mrs. Hayes arrived.
It meant there wasn’t much fabric between his warm hands and my flushed skin. But I had other things on my plate to handle, and I couldn’t give in to my body’s need for a quickie to settle my nerves.
Besides, even though I knew Eli was teasing me with his touch, he was really after something else entirely.
He was hungry.
He wasalwayshungry.
“Go for it.” I shrugged.
He rubbed his hands together like a fool and then took a large forkful of the concoction and ate it without hardly chewing it.
“Hey!” A shrill cry echoed from the loft railing overlooking the living space where the kids’ rooms were. “Mom said no snacks!” Emmie cried with outrage.
“If you hurry, I’ll save you a bite.” Eli tossed over his shoulder as he took another large forkful. Her little feet echoed across the hardwood floor as she flew down the stairs. My little girl could out eat any of the boys in the house, and she sure tried to most days. “God,” Eli groaned, “This is nearly as good as your pu?—”
“I’m here!” Emmie cried, silencing the indecent thing Eli was about to say, and I shook my head with a chuckle. “Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!” She pushed a step stool over and dug a fork into the pie.
“Careful, darling.” Elliot composed himself in time to hold her long brown curls back before they fell into the sticky applefilling. “Can’t mess up the hair your mama spent so much time on.”
“Mmh,” Emmie groaned with a satisfied little smirk on her chipmunk-filled cheeks as she looked at me. “Your pies are my favorite. But don’t tell Grammie.”
Eli laughed and leaned on the counter with the fork in his hands, “Your pies are my favorite too.” He winked at me over Emmie’s head. “Cream pies, to be exact.”
I pushed so hard on the dough with the roller it almost broke again, and I glared at him.
“Cream pies?” Toby’s innocent little voice popped up out of where and I jumped, “Like chocolate cream?”
“Exactly like that.” Travis droned on with a pointed glare Eli’s way as he followed my youngest in from the backyard. They both wore flannel shirts and jeans, covered in mud and dirt.
“You’re both a wreck.” I deadpanned, glancing at the clock on the stove. “Your parents are going to be here in twenty minutes. What on earth were you doing out there?”
“Splitting logs!” Toby piped up excitedly, “With axes.”
My hands froze, and I turned to Travis, “You gave my four-year-old an axe?”
Travis glared at me defiantly as Eli chuckled and lifted a complaining Emmie from the stool, scooping one last fork of apple into her mouth.
“Go wash the apple off your face while Mama yells at Trav.” Eli joked, and Emmie grinned, grabbing Toby’s hand and pulling him from the kitchen.
