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“We never went camping, so it never came up,” I said, looking down at Gray. “I can’t believe he doesn’t like s’mores.”
“I don’t know if I like them either. I’ve never had one,” he said with a shrug.
I widened my eyes at his father. “That’s just cruel, Zac.”
“You make him a s’more, then.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I will. Grayson, you can come over to my house one night, and we’ll do them by the fire. My sister and I have a firepit in our backyard.”
“Can we put up a tent and camp outside, too?” he asked, bouncing up and down.
“We sure can. I’ll borrow my dad’s camping gear, and we’ll plan it.”
“Who’s your dad?” he asked.
“His name is Charles. But everyone calls him Chuck.”
“Why?”
I laughed. “It’s just a nickname.”
“But it doesn’t sound like Charles. My dad’s is Zac ’cause his real name is Zachary, and mine is Gray ’cause my real name is Grayson.”
“Ha, well, yes. Nicknames can be kind of different than your real name sometimes.”
“What’s your nickname?”
“Lay, I guess?” I made a face at Zac, who was standing there with his hand over his mouth, watching us talk with something like pure happiness in his eyes.
“Hey, that rhymes with Gray,” Grayson pointed out. Then without another word, he took off down the aisle to look at the other costumes.
“He’skillingme,” I told Zac, my cheeks hurting from smiling so much.
“You’rekillingme.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I love watching you with him.”
The pain in my cheeks turned to warmth. “Yeah, well, he’s adorable.”
Zac started to say something, then jammed his hands in his pockets and snapped his mouth shut.
I poked his middle. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
Laughing, I wagged a finger at him. “You have to now.”
“It’s too cheesy. You’re turning me into a guy who says cheesy stuff, and I don’t like it. This whole shopping trip has been full of it.” His shoulders shook as he shuddered, making us both laugh. “I don’t think it was like this last time.”
“Maybe being a dad has turned you into a big ol’ softie.”
“You think?”
