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“But…I’ve been thinking, Scoob. May-be we could look at building one here in our tree. The one in the corner.”

Ian’s head whipped around, his eyes wide as saucers as he gaped at his mom. “Really?”

“Maybe,” she reiterated. “Merit will have to make sure the tree would work, first.”

Wait—Merit will have to what?

She twisted in her chair to look at him. “Would you mind checking it out for us?”

His heart thumped hard while he shifted in his seat. Now was the time to tell her he didn’t actually build tree houses. He knew absolutely nothing about building tree houses. “I—”

“Please, Merit? Pretty please?” Ian bounced so hard in his chair, his marshmallow fell off the end of his roasting stick, and he didn’t even notice.

One look at that excited little face and he couldn’t bear to say no. “Of course I can look at it.” Technically, not a lie, but it still triggered a wave of guilt.

Mae reached out to squeeze his forearm. “Thank you.”

One look at her beautiful smile, and he knew he’d be researching tree houses the second he got home. The warmth of her touch made the muted electric buzz between them spark to life—especially when her hand lingered. She trailed her fingers along his skin, back and forth, her thumb tracing the vein on the inside of his arm.

His pulse sped up as he watched her movements and imagined her tracing a vein somewhere else on his body. With her tongue. Her gaze rose to his, and he wasn’t sure if the flame in her eyes was a reflection of the campfire or the blaze gathering steam inside him.

“Aw, man—I lost my marshmallow.”

Ian’s exclamation made them both jump. Merit jerked his arm away at the same time Mae yanked her hand back. Heat swept through him from head to toe and settled smack dab in the middle of his body. Worst time ever to be thinking those kind of thoughts.

“Can I do another one?”

“That’s enough for tonight,” Mae said, her voice a bit breathless as she rose to her feet. “How about you grab the hose to put the fire out?”

And douse me while you’re at it, Merit thought.

Ian sighed, but he didn’t argue. Merit understood a moment later when he used the hose like a gun and shot the fire in little bursts while making explosion noises to go with each spray of sparks. When the last coal was black and the hose put away, they all went inside.

He ruffled Ian’s blond hair before offering a knuckle bump. “Thanks for a fun night, Ian. Sleep tight.”

The kid surprised him by wrapping his arms around his waist in a hug. “Goodnight, Merit. I wish you could stay.”

His chest squeezed as he hugged him back. He was falling for Ian as much as he was falling for Mae.

The thought drew him up short. Was he falling for Mae?

Well, duh, dipshit. You got down on your knees for her—and it wasn’t about sex.

He wasn’t falling; he’d already fallen.

He gave the kid one more hair ruffle. “I’ll see you soon. Promise.”

“This weekend?” Ian let go and looked up at his mom. “Can Merit come to our birthday dinner?”

Her gaze met his over her son’s head. “If he wants to,” she said softly.

He wanted to. Definitely. “How about if I take you guys out? Then no one has to cook or clean up.”

“Can I pick where we go?” Ian asked. “I’m gonna be seven.”

Merit raised his eyebrows for her approval. Her palm up shoulder lift came with a warning. “He’s going to be seven, but we might still end up at Chuck E. Cheese.”

“I don’t care.”

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