I internally cringe.Idiot.
He curls his bare toes on the hardwood floor. “Not a sleepover?”
Fucking hell, what do I say to this five-year-old that won’t scar him for life?
“Nooo…” I draw out the word, frantically trying to find a way past this curious child, and I’ve known Ben long enough to know just how curious he can be. “Grown-ups don’t have sleepovers.”
“Daddy never wore a shirt when he slept with Mommy.” He scrunches his nose. “Sometimes Mommy didn’t either, but she would hold the sheet all the way up, so that’s how I knew.”
Jesus. What do Isay?
I clear my throat. “That’s a different kind of sleepover. They loved each other very much, and when they wanted to—” I strangle the next words out of my mouth. Because this direction I’m venturing down? Fucking idiotic.
Win’s amused voice drifts toward me from the staircase. “Sorry to interrupt your birds and bees talk.”
I glare at him. It sounds an awful lot like he’s been there for a while, silently laughing at me as I struggle to dig myself out of this conversation and end up digging deeper.
“Do you want to come watch cartoons with me until your mom wakes up?” he asks Ben.
Ben studies me curiously. I don’t blame him. My behavior is off-the-charts bizarre, and even he’s picked up on it. He shakes his head at Win and moves toward Rose’s door. “I’m gonna stay with Mommy.”
“Okay.” I step aside and pull open the door for him, glad I thought to toss Rose’s bath towel into the hamper in the room’s corner.
Rose is still sleeping. I pulled the sheets up to her neck before kissing her forehead and made myself walk away from her. She looks fucking beautiful. So damn sweet and sexy that it’s killing me not to crawl back into that bed and never leave it again.
But getting out when I did was for a good reason. That reason is the five-year-old peering curiously up at me. If Ben had found us in bed together, I’m not sure what I would have said. Rose probably would have thought of something a little less idiotic than what came out of my mouth. But I don’t want Ben to be confused or think I’m taking the place of his dad. Neither does Rose. So for now, sex is on the down-low around Ben.
“Come down if you want to play, and we’ll dig out the Lego,” I tell him. “Your mom might still need more rest.”
I ignore Win’s raised eyebrow, praying Ben doesn’t ask me any more questions. Ben might be too young to understand why Rose’s sheets are rumpled and her hair is disheveled. Win sure as hell isn’t.
“Okay, Murph.” Ben rushes over to Rose’s bed.
I make sure he doesn’t jump on her before I close the door and walk toward Win, who's standing near the staircase with his hands in his pockets. It’s early, but he’s dressed in the jeans and t-shirt he usually wears to work, which isn’t unusual.
We’re all early-to-bed, early-to-rise types, except when we’re watching a movie with Rose. Then, none of us wants the night to end, and it usually does when Rose falls asleep with her head on one of our shoulders.
“How long were you there?” I ask him.
He flashes me a grin. “Long enough to wonder how you were going to explain adult sleepovers to Ben. I was hoping you’d tell me where babies came from.”
Man is forty years old, and he says it with a straight face and the wide-eyed innocence of a child.
“Fuck off.” I mock-glare at him. “And you didn’t think to save me?”
He chuckles. “And ruin my fun? You realize you could have told him that Rose stayed up late, right?”
“Shut up,” I mutter, mentally kicking myself for not doing the obvious.
Laughing, he claps me on the shoulder. “We need to talk about the house.”
I cock my head. “What about it?”
“Joel said he had an offer.”
His news is a bucket of cold water flung in my face. Here I am, thinking about the future with Rose, and we’re living in a house that will be foreclosed if we don’t sell it and find somewhere cheaper we can actually afford. “A good offer?”
Even knowing we need the best offer we can get, I hope the answer is no. We’ve all had so many happy memories in this house, and every day we make more.
