He shrugs. “I have a list in my phone.”
A whole list? About … me?
“What? Show me.”
I reach for his pocket, and he twists away, chuckling.
“No.”
I try again, and he catches my hand.
“Why not?”
“Because you like surprises.” He leans in, kissing my cheek. “It’s one of the things on the list.”
* * *
Eventually, the kids demand ice cream—okay, I demand ice cream, and the kids eagerly back the idea—and I fill Benji in on Skye’s demands.
“Will I need to get it notarized, or will a blood seal do?” Benji asks, my favorite smile curled into the corner of his lips.
I love that curl. I want to shrink myself down and burrow into it on cold days while the rumble of his voice vibrates down into my bones.
“I’d forgo the blood,” I say. “She might send it off to a lab, where they clone you and frame you for murder.”
“Sometimes, I forget you two are related, but never for long.”
I take that as a compliment.
Chapter Sixteen
PAIGE
Isaac has the kids’ bags packed and lined up in the entryway when we get back to Benji’s. I’ve never seen it before. Unlike the shop, which was easy for him to re-rent, he had to find a new apartment, and maybe he is being honest about staying long-term because it’s a lot bigger than his old studio.
A guest room, a rug under the lounge suite, a sideboard in the hallway. This isn’t the furniture of a man ready to run at a moment’s notice. It’s neat and clean, like his shop, as organized as his tools, and his walls are a showcase of his talent, right down to the framed crayon drawings hanging over the dining table.
The kids jump into Isaac’s waiting arms, and he lifts them the before the front door closes. There’s a moment before he puts them down, where he closes his eyes, holds them tight, and breathes, like it’s been far longer than afew hours since he saw them. Like he’s counting his blessings.
It fills my heart close to bursting.
“How’d it go?” he asks them once they’re back on solid ground. “Did you have fun?”
“Yep.” Daphne nods.
Dominic sticks his hands into his pockets. “Look at these.” He all but throws the shells into his dad’s hands, who oohs and aahs in the same way Benji and I did an hour ago. Dom, who is free of his bounty, takes the chance to ditch the adults and go after Daphne to the living room.
“How about you?” Benji asks his brother. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I did.” Isaac pushes up off his knees and smiles at me. “Sorry, I’m”—he juggles the shells into one hand, holding the other out—“Isaac. You must be Paige. My brother has shit manners.”
“Language,” Benji teases.
“That’s okay. I’m used to it,” I tease back.
Isaac pockets the shells and wipes his hands on Benji’s shirt, who slaps his hands away. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
“Yeah, we’re all packed up. The cab should be here in twenty minutes.”
