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“I reckon she won’t take kindly to that. I’ve had the displeasure of conversing with your mom in the morning before she’s had a cup of coffee.”
Day giggled and started toward me, totally ignoring my warning, but I blocked him at the top of the stairs and hooked an arm around his waist and hauled him over my shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
He weighed about as much as a sack of potatoes as I carried him down the stairs and put him back on the couch with Jenny, who was still curled up and snoring. I turned on some cartoons and went into the kitchen, wiping pieces of hay off my bare chest that had fallen out of Day’s filthy hair on the way downstairs.
I rummaged through the pantry, pulling out flour, salt, sugar, and baking powder. I had some breakfast sausage in the fridge and some bacon Charmaine had gifted me from the drove of heritage hogs she raised. It was damn good bacon, and I was easing more and more into actually allowing myself to get friendly with my neighbors instead of living like reclusive old man on a sprawling property with no one to share it with.
“Do you always cook half naked?”
I looked over my shoulder to find Moira leaning on the archway leading into the kitchen, her mess of thick hair tied up in a huge, messy bun on the top of her head. Just like Day, her eyes were puffy with sleep and a warm blush stained her cheeks as she gave me a knowing smile.
Some of the tension left my shoulders as I read the look in her eyes.
There would be no awkwardness here, not anymore. We’d crossed the line and it was clear to both of us that there was no going back.
“Depends on who’s eating my breakfast,” I answered before turning back to the skillet and whisking cream into the roux I was making for the gravy. The timer on the oven chimed, and I tossed an oven mitt at Moira, tilting my head toward the oven.
“Did you make these?” She laughed in surprise as she pulled the biscuits out of the oven and set them on the stovetop.
“Yeah, I did,” I breathed, focused on the gravy. “Day’s eating us out of house and home. I need to go into town for groceries today—”
“Grant, I’m sorry—”
I turned off the stovetop and turned to face her, crossing my arms over my chest. She was in the same stance, and the two of us looked at each other for a moment as if sizing each other up.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, and she knew exactly what I was talking about.
She tilted her chin, shrugging her lean shoulders. “You don’t have to take care of me and my kid just because we slept together.”
I leaned against the counter, watching the blush spread across her face despite the fire behind her eyes. “We’re sleeping together,” I said. “And I don’t mean for this to be a one and done thing.”
“What is this, then? I feel like I should resign from my job now, Grant—”
“You’re going to keep working for me,” I said lightly. “And you’re going to move into the house, even if you stay in the guest rooms upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because I take care of my own, and you and Holliday fall into the category.”
She took a few steps toward me, the corners of her mouth twitching into a soft smile. She laid her hand on my chest and looked up into my eyes before sighing, “What do we tell Day?”
“Nothing yet, we need to work out some things between us, first. He’s not a dumb kid, Moira. I’m sure he suspects something’s been going on for a while now based on your hot and cold attitude toward me.”
She narrowed her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter. “I’ll take the guest room across the hall, and Day can move into the one right next to mine… unless you’re planning on letting him sleep in the living room forever.”
“He likes it in there.” I laughed. “Jenny can’t go up and down the stairs like she used to, and I doubt he’d agree to sleep without her.”
Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. Moira asked if she could take a few days to make the move final and let Day adjust to the idea that they’d be living in my house instead of just spending the night every once in a while.
Day was the least of my worries, and if I was being honest, I didn’t have many worries at all at the moment. It wasn’t like we were young kids moving out of our parents’ houses and into a place with our partners for the first time. We were adults, and this just made the most sense to both of us after a quick conversation while she set the table and I loaded our plates with biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and bacon.
Day bounded into the kitchen as I laid the first plate on the kitchen table and settled in a seat between Moira and me as we ate. Moira slid her foot against mine under the table, and Day stretched out his legs, resting his ankle over my knee.
I looked at them both, marveling in the way the morning sunlight played through their hair and over their faces as we chatted about Day’s hamster, Jenny, and whatever plans he had for his day.
But then I met Moira’s eyes and felt my heart skip a beat.
This house… it had never felt like home until the day Moira and Day showed up.
