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I grab her waist, and her chest heaves against mine. “You didn’t say that this morning.”
Rolling her eyes, she slaps my chest, her laugh vibrating against my mouth.
Just as dramatic as her mother, Ella squeals on Jay-Jay’s shoulders as he runs into the water, cold droplets splashing on her feet.
I take the moment and soak it up because right here, in our own little circle, is my entire world.
***
“She’s snoring,” Claire says, wrapping her sweater around herself and climbing onto my lap.
I hold her tight as she rests her head on my shoulder and we watch the ocean in the darkness.
I always cherish when she’s in my arms, always grab on and never want to let go because the fear will always remain that there’ll be a day she won’t be there.
She sighs, moaning her comfort.
“What are they doing?” she asks, staring down at Jay-Jay and Ava, lying on the sand and staring up at the night sky.
“Looking at the stars.”
Her eyes water when she looks at me. “Jesus, woman, you don’t need to cry over it.”
“It’s sweet, and some of these tears are for you.”
My brows almost reach my hairline. “Me? Why?”
“Because Alex is going to kill you.”
She’s not wrong. I see the look in my son’s eyes—all googly and stupid when Ava is around.
They’re best friends. They have been since they were eight years old, and now he stutters when she stands too close.
“They’re kids,” I defend.
She eyes me, tilting her head. “What were you doing when you were sixteen?”
Nothing good.
I blow out a breath. “Fuck.”
Risking a glance at Mandy and Alex sitting on their steps, I immediately regret it.
If he wasn’t holding their six-year-old son, I’m pretty sure Alex would drown my kid.
Mandy waves. Alex shakes his head.
“And we both know what Mandy was doing at that age,” Claire adds, laughing. “Because it led to…well…Ava.”
“Okay,” I drawl, tapping my fingers against her thigh. I can deal with this tomorrow. “I think it’s time for a drink. Something strong. Wine for you?”
She chews her lips between her teeth and plucks the material of my shirt between her fingers, fidgeting.
Silence.
And more silence.
She swallows hard. I can tell whatever it is, is bubbling on the tip of her tongue. “Spit it out, Trouble.”
