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“Is that for real?” I feel the rumble of his voice within his chest. I inhale a surprisingly shaky breath.

“It is. How many hugs have you had today so far?”

He thinks about it. “I guess I hugged Scout before I left the preschool.”

“So this is number two? You need eight more after this.”

He scoffs. “Don’t think that’s happening.”

“Well, then I guess we’d better make this one count. It’s a long hug, so I’d say it’s good for two at least.” I don’t loosen my grip. Neither does he.

“How many hugs have you had today? I’m guessing you take care of your emotional health.”

“I guess not. This is the first one for me today.”

“First two,” he says.

“You’re right. Counts for two,” I agree.

I forget to take the picture. And he forgets to remind me.

CHAPTER 16

Luke

“So it’s going to be the three of us?” Scout bounces on his toes, making it hard for me to tie his shoes. I should’ve bought the Velcro ones, which he could put on himself, but he loved the bright yellow laces on this pair—even though I was supposed to be disciplining him for punching that kid at school instead of buying him a treat, and they cost more than I budgeted.

If that makes me a bad dad, come for me. I dare you.

“Yes. Callie is coming with us.” I prefer the idea of her joining “the two of us,” rather than us somehow being this new unit Scout is referring to. He can’t possibly understand why it matters to me, but I want to keep Callie separate from our family. The family that will exist once I win the custody battle and we each return to our respective lives.

“Cool.” He buzzes off to examine his shelf, the crates of building blocks and modeling clay, because I told him he could bring one activity with him to the barbecue. “Are you sure there will be cornhole?” he asks, surveying a small pop-a-shot basketball game.

“Yes. Cornhole and a giant Connect Four and Jenga. I promise there will be plenty to do even if you don’t bring anything.”

“But Callie likes clay. She told me. I want to bring it for her.”

The doorbell rings, and I leave Scout to ponder his art supplies. Callie stands on my doorstep wearing a blue plaid dress and holding a small picnic basket in the crook of her arm. “Is Toto in there?”

“Wait, are you making a joke? And you’ve seen The Wizard of Oz? Who are you, and what have you done with Growly Farmer with No Movie Knowledge?”

I roll my eyes and tap my hand against my mouth, mostly to hide my amusement. “He’s having a time-out. You’re stuck with this guy today.”

I feel the heat of her eyes as she scans my dark jeans, silver belt buckle, white tee. She licks her lips and offers me a closed-mouthed smile, but I can see her quick pulse feathering the pale skin of her neck. I shouldn’t be looking for signs that she approves of me or how I look, but I can’t deny that it feels good to have her tacit approval.

“Well, I’ll take him. I like this lightened-up version.”

“Don’t get too used to him,” I warn. “I’m getting end-of-quarter reports on Monday, and they’re bound to put me back in a crappy mood.”

She holds up a hand like a stop sign. “Hopefully, that’s not true, but even if it is, leave that for Monday.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” I take her in, aglow in a blue sundress, her hair loose and wild, framing her face. Her pink lips snag my gaze for a second too long.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yes. I just…I appreciate you doing this with me. All these people, it’s a lot. If I can repay the favor, just ask.”

Her eyes sparkle, and she doesn’t hesitate. “Take me horseback riding.”