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“What do you want them to teach you?” I ask.
“Science.”
“What kind of science?” Tucker asks him, leaning back against the counter with his cup of coffee.
“Volcanoes and wockets, things dat expwode!” He swings his tiny arms wide, knocking the bowl off the counter, but Tucker catches it.
“I think you’re a little young for things that explode, lovie.” I take the bowl from Tucker and put it back where it was.
“No, I not. I’m going to be four.”
“Yes, you’re going to be four, not fourteen,” I say, and he rolls his eyes. Lord, this kid is going to be trouble when he’s a teenager. “Okay, what kind of birthday party do you want this year?” I change the subject. My mama heart cannot handle him talking about explosives already.
“Wockets and volcanoes,” he replies, and I roll my eyes as Tucker tosses his head back and laughs.
All I can do is sigh. Boys….
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
tucker
With Miranda and Kingston under the umbrella I have my hand wrapped around, I attempt to keep the two of them dry as we walk across the parking lot. An almost impossible task with Kingston stopping to jump in each and every puddle that is more than half an inch deep. Then again, Miranda put a pair of rain boots on him that look like dinosaurs, so he’s on a mission to test the durability and make sure they are fully waterproof. When I finally get them to where Miranda’s car is parked, I open the back door first to get Kingston out of the rain that is falling harder than it was a moment ago.
“Get in the car, babe. I got him.” I meet Miranda’s gaze over the top of the door, and with a nod, she opens hers and gets in behind the steering wheel.
“Get in your seat, bud,” I tell Kingston as he pulls his game out of the cup holder.
“Watch me.” He starts pressing the buttons on the game, sending rings floating through the water and trying to get them onto the dolphins’ noses.
“You can show me when you’re buckled in.”
“When do I get to see Winter again?” he asks, sitting on the edge of his car seat.
“You’ll see her soon.”
“Are you comin’ for dinner tonight?” he asks as I maneuver his bottom into his car seat, and I laugh.
“Yeah, I’m coming to dinner tonight.”
“Can we have pizza?”
“Sure,” I reply, and I hear Miranda giggle.
“Will you come wif Mom to pick me up from school?” he questions, buckling himself in.
“I’ll try.”
“Pwomise?”
“Yeah, bud. I promise.” I ruffle his hair, then stand back and shut the door.
“Are you rethinking things yet?” Miranda asks quietly, and I look down at her through her open window, then glance at Kingston in the back seat, with his eyes on me and a smile on his face.
This morning, whatever walls were left standing between us came down. And now more than ever before, I know I want chaotic mornings like this one and to be able to watch Kingston run wild at the end of the day. I don’t just feel content when I’m with them; I feel happy and at peace, something I’ve never fully experienced before in my thirty-four years.
I didn’t lie. She’s too fucking good for me, but I’m not giving her up, and I’ll fight for us every single day.
“Not even a little bit.” I watch her face get soft, “What time do you pick him up from daycare?” I close the umbrella and pass it through the window. She places it on the passenger seat.
“Normally around five.”
“I’ll see if I can meet you there.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know you’re working.”
“Send me a text with the address,” I order, ignoring her statement, and her face flushes a pretty pink as she nods. Christ, she’s fucking beautiful. I lean down and press my mouth to hers. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“See you tonight,” she says, and I back up a step, then watch her roll up her window and back out of her parking spot. As Kingston waves I wave back.
With the rain beating down on me, I watch the two of them drive off, then head for my truck and get in behind the wheel. As I’m heading out of the complex with Miranda a little ways ahead of me, my brows drag together when her brake lights come on as she pulls over to the sidewalk next to a figure cloaked in black with a hoodie up, covering their hair. It takes a moment to realize who it is, but when I see Carrie get into her car, my gut clenches tight. I no longer suspect Carrie of being a part of Kristen’s death, but that doesn’t mean I trust her. Especially with Miranda and Kingston.
“Shit.” It looks like I do have something else I need to come clean to Miranda about. I didn’t even fucking think about her making contact with Carrie at some point, even with them being neighbors.
