Page 90 of Halo

Nick cleans up the last uneven patches, carefully shaving Grady’s stubborn cowlick before smoothing out the nape of his neck. Honestly, they both pull off the egghead. Something about their strong bone structure and perfectly round heads makes the buzz cuts oddly endearing.

As Nick starts Grady’s bedtime routine, I duck downstairs to swap out another load of laundry, returning to the kitchen with a basket of warm clothes.

As I fold a couple of Grady’s t-shirts, my eyes wander to the refrigerator. And good grief ... Every spare inch of the chrome doors is hidden beneath Grady’s handiwork. Last week’s sight-word list. A lopsided paper-plate turkey. A family portrait that appears to include Nick, Grady, a cow, and—unless my eyes deceive me—a stegosaurus.

Next to the parade of artwork is a strip of pictures from the photo booth at the harvest festival. Nick and Grady make silly faces, posing with their tongues out, rabbit ears, and crossed eyes, all while wearing feather boas.

I chuckle under my breath as another photo in a protective case catches my eye, held to the refrigerator by a Longhorn magnet. An elderly woman with striking moss-green eyes sits front and center in a wheelchair while three graying adults gather around her in Wranglers and ten-gallon hats. Nick stands beside them, smiling for the camera, yet somehow he doesn’t quite fit with the rest of them.

I lean in a little closer, tracing the edge of the frame with my fingertip. The resemblance becomes impossible to miss—the same nose, the same dimples, even the same moss-green eyes. This has to be his family.

“That’s Magnolia Elise Poteet-Crawford.”

I startle, turning to find Nick leaning against the wall. “Four-time WPRA World Champion barrel racer,” he says with a proud grin. “She was kind of a big deal back in the day.”

I glance back at the photo. “She’s beautiful.”

“I know; that’s where I get my devastatingly good looks.”

I snort. “Who’s everyone else?”

He ambles over and points to each person. “That’s my brother, Danny, and those are my two sisters, Whitney and Stephanie.”

“Ohhh …” I nod. “I knew y’all had to be related. I just wasn’t expecting—“

“For me to have siblings old enough to be my parents?” He laughs. “Yeah, I get that a lot. My mom …” He tasks, shaking his head. “She thought she was in early menopause. She finally went to the doctor, and surprise! She was almost seven months pregnant with me.’

I gasp. “You’re kidding.”

“Proof is in the pudding.”

I snort, glancing up to his bald head. “I cannot take you seriously right now.”

He rubs a hand over his scalp. “Yeah, I didn’t think this one through.”

Smiling, I reach up almost absentmindedly and brush my palm over the fresh stubble. I let out a contented hum.

His eyebrows lift. “What’s the hrmmm for?”

“That halo keeps popping out, cowboy.”

He huffs a laugh. “Right.”

“I’m serious.” My hand drops to the swell of his arm. “What you did for Grady ... that was incredibly selfless.”

He shrugs. “It was an intrusive thought.”

“It was love.”

The silence that follows makes me acutely aware of the word I’d chosen.

Great. I’ve somehow made that word weird.

Nick studies me for a moment before clearing his throat. “So, I used your number.”

I laugh. “You did. I’ll admit, though, I wasn’t expecting our first conversation to revolve around lice.”

“No, probably not. I—“ He furrows his eyebrows, looking toward the stairs. “Wait … I think I hear Grady.” He steps closer to the hallway and tilts his head to listen. “Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.”