Page 25 of Learning at 40

“I’m the architect,” Logan states with authority, pointing at himself as he speaks to Mason.

“But I’m the builder. This will work best.”

I chuckle at the two who have always had a competitive relationship despite being roommates and best friends since freshman year of college.

“Everybody getting along?” River teases as she approaches me. She’s wearing her scrubs again today, and I’m certain Mason had the same thoughts as me yesterday. I’d like her to be my naughty nurse. The reality of her job, though, sets me back. Pediatric oncology must be a difficult position, and it explains why my children so easily react to her. She knows how to talk to kids. I’m clueless even though I always swore I’d be a better father than my own. I’d provide for them. I’d be present for them. I’d be supportive of them. However, since their birth, we’ve had countless nannies. Jeanine was just as busy as I was in her career, and our twins came second. I’m not proud of that fact.

“Architect and builder clash. I’m getting used to it in our new venture.”

“And what’s your role again?” She eyes me in my sweaty tee and dirty day-old shorts.

“I’m normally the paper pusher, but I wanted to be more hands-on with the boys on this project.” If I had known activities with my boys would make her smile like she is, I’d find more projects with those two hellions. Forgive me—children. Then again, I’ve seen her mouth curl in reaction to other pleasant things, and I’m eager to repeat those actions.

“How was your day?” I ask, still focused on her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at my asking, and she bites her lower lip.

“Today was better. Thank you.”

“Patient doing better?” When she didn’t look at me yesterday, it stung. She was hurting and I felt a little helpless. I didn’t miss the brush of her hand to dismiss the tears on her cheek, but I didn’t want to draw attention to them when she clearly didn’t want me to see them. Still, my chest ached, and everything in me wanted to pull her to me to comfort her. Last night, she dismissed my concern just as easily, and I distracted her the only way I thought might work.

I bite my lower lip, wondering if she’s thought about what we did last night as much as I have all day.

“She’s as good as she’s going to get,” River replies with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s putting on a brave face again, and I imagine it often takes one to work with such sensitive cases.

“So, how’re we doing today?” She nods at the progress. What was intended to be a new ladder up the trunk and rebuilt platform among the branches has turned into a real structure in her tree.

“It might be getting out of hand, but we’ll be done today.” I hope. We should have consulted River on what she’d want. It’s her yard, as she said yesterday. It’s her tree, and it’s been a struggle to remember such things as I dismantle my old fort and build a new one in a backyard that is no longer mine. Still, she’s smiling at the construction which has low walls and cut-outs for windows.

“Where are the boys?” As if they hear her asking, they appear from behind the tree. They’ve had some good swings with little hammers and come up with lots of plans for their temporary house, but they’ve been losing interest due to the lengthiness of the project. It takes time to measure, cut, and build.

We’ll need to build a tree house in our own backyard, I’ve decided. I’m only saddened Logan and Mason won’t be around to help. Neither will River, but I dismiss the thought for now.

“Miss River,” my sons say almost in unison like she’s their favorite teacher. She’s definitely becoming mine.

“Hey, guys. I have something for you.” Reaching down for a bag I hadn’t noticed at her feet, River lowers to their level, kneeling on the ground to remove items from the large sack.

Object after object is revealed. Pirate hats. Eye patches. Dark bandanas. And a telescope.

“You need to share this,” she tells them, and I huff. Good luck with that.

Mason responds instead. “You’re making monsters by spoiling them.”

“I’m making pirates of them, searching for adventure. Argh,” she groans, and my dick unfurls at the throaty sound. Forget naughty nurse. I want her to wear a short dress with a lowcut bodice to swashbuckle me. I have buried treasure for her to discover.

“As long as they aren’t stealing maidenhead. Or discovering a maiden giving head,” Mason interjects, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Really?” I mutter. Speaking of a man with no boundaries.

“I want to steal a maidenhead,” Trevor says with enthusiasm.

“I want a maiden giving head,” Oliver adds.

My eyes sliver into piercing slits. If I had a sword, I’d impale Mason with it. However, River laughs, and I recall the sound from the other night.

“How about searching for buried treasure instead? That’s better than any girl,” River teases, scrunching up her face in an adorable mocking of her own sex.

“A maiden is a girl?” Trevor questions, his face falling in exasperation. “Ugh. No, thank you.”

“I like girls.” Oliver shrugs like they aren’t that bad.