Page 65 of One Night with Number Nineteen

He’s not especially picky, but he doesn’t love holiday food so ham and turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing and salads that don’t have anything green in them (or those that do) aren’t in his four-year-old diet.

Pointless for me to make all that food just for me.

We sit at a table in the corner of the restaurant and spend the next couple of minutes getting settled in—taking menus, unfolding napkins, opening the plastic packet of crayons so Ollie can color on the sheet they thoughtfully included—so I don’t immediately clock it.

But as we’re offering up ideas of what to order, my spidey senses start tingling.

“No, honey,” Nancy says, “I don’t like that sauce, remember?”

“Right, Mom. Sorry, I forgot.”

She pats his arm. “Always forgetting about important things, aren’t you?”

The phrasing and her tone make it sound like a tease.

But there’s something off about it.

Something that has the edges of his smile dimming.

“How about lemon chicken?” I interject. “Ollie and I both really like that sauce.”

Her eyes light up and her smile widens. “That works! And then we can get the lo mein you like, honey,” she says to Sawyer. “And we’ll get the rice and wontons and…”

She names off what I would normally say is far too much food.

Only I’ve seen how much these guys eat.

I smile over at Sawyer. “For your hollow leg?” I tease.

He winks. “Hey, it takes a lot of work—and food—to keep this body in this kind of shape.”

And what a shape it’s in. Yum.

Thoughts I keep in my head, thankfully.

Because saying it aloud in front of his mom or my son…

But he clearly knows I’m thinking it, leaning close and murmuring for my ears only, “I’ll let you admire it later.”

Heat in my cheeks, drifting lazy fingers down my belly, between my legs.

He settles one big palm on my thigh and it takes everything in me not to gasp.

It’s hot and strong and his pinky drifts up and down, up and down.

I shiver.

The edge of his mouth tips up.

But he doesn’t move his hand.

And…I’m glad.

“Mom says I have a hollow leg when I eat ice cream.” Ollie’s eyes are on the coloring sheet as he dutifully fills in a dolphin. “And cookies.”

Sawyer squeezes my leg lightly then slips his hand free.

I miss it immediately.