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He’s silent for a beat. “Yeah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
“I do worry about you.” He has so much going on; how could I not worry about him?
He ignores that. “I should be able to leave here by eleven thirty at the latest.”
“Whenever you get here is fine. Don’t stress over it, okay?”
“Okay.” Silence. And then he says quietly, “Thanks for this.” In those three words is a whole other paragraph of words. I know that he’s not just thanking me for the physical act of looking after his son, but for so much more that he probably struggles to put into words. Luke is like an iceberg. You only see the very tip of him—underneath his
surface, there’s a whole lot more that most people will probably never see or understand.
“Anytime,” I murmur.
We end the call, and I smile at Sean. “Shall we eat?”
He stares at me in silence before puffing out a breath and nodding. And even though a minute ago I was thinking bad, bad thoughts about this small child standing in front of me, I’m now wondering how I could ever have thought them. Because right now, I’m reminded that this tiny human needs adults to cut him a little slack while he finds his feet in this big scary world. He needs us to teach him how to navigate it all, and sometimes that means we need to suck it up and fight our way through the chaos of childhood.
* * *
“Callie!”
That’s a tiny human’s voice.
What time is it?
It’s way too early to be awake.
“Callie, wake up!”
The tiny human pulls on my arm, and I concede defeat. Blinking my eyes open, I find Sean standing next to the bed, staring at me with excitement. “Morning,” I mumble.
I need coffee.
Right now.
God, why didn’t you intercept on this one?
Is it because I thought bad thoughts last night?
I promise never to do that again.
“You need to get up. Daddy’s cooking breakfast,” he says, his voice a beautiful wash of enthusiasm and happiness.
I force myself to wake up. Morning’s aren’t my best time. I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s gotta be early. Shifting so I’m half-sitting, resting on my elbows, I say, “What’s for breakfast?”
A deep chuckle comes from the doorway, and I turn to see Luke leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest.
Oh, dear Lord, he’s wearing one of those thin, cotton tees that he seems to love. I’ve never seen him wear one in the last year, but all of a sudden, they’re everywhere. Tormenting me.
My eyes drop to his chest, and a shot of lust hits my core.
Quick, look up.
Look up!
I drag my gaze back up to meet his and find his eyes steady on me. Sleeping over last night may have been a bad idea. When he arrived home, I was asleep on the couch, and he woke me to suggest I sleep over rather than driving home half asleep. I’d been exhausted after my day at work and then taking care of Sean, so I agreed. I made the stipulation that we needed separate rooms, so he gave up his bed and took the couch instead. In my sleepy state, though, with him looking as sexy as he does in that T-shirt and jeans, with bare feet, I’m suddenly feeling all kinds of needy.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks.
