Like heaven.
“That good?” she asks lightly.
“Better,” I say, leaning close and inhaling.
The second sheet goes in, and she comes close again, handing me one of the still-warm cookies.
It’s gone in two bites. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“I’m glad,” she says softly, watching me eat.
“Should we make a batch of something you like?” I ask as I reach for a second cookie.
“No, this is for you.”
“Harp.”
She comes close again, wrapping her arm around my waist, resting her side against my front. “For you, Leo,” she whispers.
And, the scent of cinnamon and sugar in the air, warm cookies in my belly, I get it—what she meant about happiness and connection…
And memories.
Because I know I won’t ever forget this one.
Thirty-Seven
Harper
The front door closes, Smitty’s voice still echoing through the wood, and I move to Leo, start to wrap my arms around him.
“Hold that thought,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip.
Then he’s backing away, his footsteps echoing on the floor?—
The lock clicks.
I grin, survey the kitchen, but even though everyone’s been lingering over their goodbyes for the last hour, there’s nothing much for me to do.
Family takes care of family.
And family shows up for family.
For my part, I’m just glad the food didn’t go to waste—my client canceled when I was literally on my way to deliver her three-course meal for twenty.
Also, yay for strict contracts and credit card numbers on file so I still got paid even though she no longer needed my services.
I rinse my glass and put it in the dishwasher.
The baby kicks, and I gasp, my hand going to my belly.
That wasn’t a flutter, wasn’t butterflies floating through my stomach.
It was a tap, distinct and clear?—
“What’s wrong?”
I hadn’t heard him return. “Leo,” I whisper. “Come here.”
