“You’re learning.”
His eyelids lowered.
“I know boats.”
“Yes.”
“I know how to fix things.”
“Yes.”
“I know this.”
He touched my chest.
“What?”
“The way you feel behind me.”
My arm tightened around him.
“That is enough for tonight.”
He nodded.
“Tomorrow can be bigger.”
His breathing slowed.
I got him to bed before he fully fell asleep.
Then I joined him because leaving had become more difficult than unfinished paperwork.
He curled against me.
The night passed without nightmares.
Near dawn, Noah woke with a sharp breath.
I surfaced immediately.
“What is it?”
He sat upright.
His expression was angry and confused.
“I dreamed about burned cinnamon.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“There was smoke everywhere.”
His hand went to the scar near his temple.
“Someone kept opening a window. Marlowe stole something from the table.”
