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“Does your mommy and daddy live here?”
I frown at the question. Not because it’s odd. It just seems out of place for a little boy to ask.
“No. They don’t. Both my parents died when I was not much older than Callie.”
His head comes shooting up again. “You don’t have a daddyora mommy?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Did you live with your grandparents?”
“No. They were all gone too. But, my brother was old enough to take care of us.”
“Oh, I guess that isn’t that bad. It’s just sad not having a mommyora daddy.”
Then it hits me. This boy has never known his father. He’s probably seen pictures and video of him, but Sammy never saw him with his own eyes. Never held his hand. I can barely remember my parents, but I have memories of them.
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, and you’re lucky to have a mommy like yours.”
He smiles at me, and I realize he’s gotten dirt on his face already. If I remember correctly, I always had dirt on my body somewhere.
“I am. She’s the best. Except at gravy. She’s not good at gravy.”
“That’s the thanks I get after I slaved at work today for you, Mr. Man,” Liv says from behind us. Her voice startles all of us, including Houdini, who was apparently sleeping. He jumps to his feet and runs over to his mistress.
I can’t think of anything to say. She’s pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a red shirt tucked into jeans. It isn’t anything sexy, but there is only one word that comes to mind: MINE.
“Mommy! We picked tomatoes and cukes.”
I blink, trying to get my dick under control. He’s been irritated that I haven’t done anything about the situation with my next-door neighbor being my perfect fantasy girl.
“I see,” she says, leaning down to hug her son. He’s a mess—he’s a little boy, so of course he is—but she doesn’t care. She closes her eyes and kisses him on the top of the head. That love, that pure acceptance, sends another alarming rush of need coursing through me.
“We were talking about tomatoes, scary Everly, and did you know that he doesn’t have a mommy or a daddy?”
Liv throws me a look of apology. “You’re not supposed to blurt things like that, kid.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t mind. Everyone in town knows. Kind of used to it.” I shrug.
“Still. We’ve talked about being more polite.”
“Sorry,” Sammy said.
“You need to go clean up. I promised Avery we would go to the diner tonight.”
“Yes! Milkshakes!”
He turns to run toward the house, Houdini hot on his heels.
“What do you say to Mason for letting you help him in his garden?”
“Thank you!”
Then we’re alone. It’s still hot out, but I barely notice. There’s a buzzing in my ears and I don’t know if it’s bees or something else, like the woman in front of me.
“Settling in okay?”
