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25
LAYLA
“Fool me once, ingredient list,” I muttered under my breath, scanning the can of soup with an eagle-eyed focus.
Zac chuckled and came up behind me where I stood at the counter, wrapping his arms around my waist. “If it’s in my pantry, it’s safe. It’s only your house we have to worry about.”
I harrumphed and proceeded with opening the can, resting my head back on his broad shoulder. I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I was exhausted. It had been a week since Grayson was discharged from the hospital, and I was starting to think I was suffering from a mild case of PTSD.
Logically, I knew it was over and he was safe. I accepted that I’d saved his life with my quick response, and I’d even stopped beating myself up for not investigating lupin before feeding it to him. It had been a mistake, sure, but it wasn’t one I’d make again. So there was no sense in continuing with the self-loathing and guilt spiraling.
All that being said, logic seemed to disappear the minute my head hit the pillow at night. I’d lie awake, imagining the way that whole evening could have gone differently if I’d offered him fruit or something very clearly peanut-free.
I’d picture us watchingInto the Spider-Verseon the couch while Lyndi read her book on the love seat. I’d tuck him into bed, and then greet him in the morning and make him a nut-free breakfast. Whenever Zac came home, he’d see that I’d done an amazing job with his son so he could focus on his sister, and he’d thank me for being a trustworthy addition to their lives.
Thoughts like that kept me awake way too long, and even after drifting off to sleep, it wasn’t peaceful in the slightest. Images of Grayson being unable to breathe or looking terrified as red splotches colored his face caused me to lurch out of bed in a cold sweat. Or even worse, I’d dream that I hadn’t acted quickly enough to save him. Those nights were the worst.
“You okay?” Zac asked, his mouth close to my ear.
I looked up at Grayson where he sat in the living room, coloring at the coffee table, and my heart skipped a beat. I loved that kid as much as I loved his father and just as much as if he were my own. That realization was the one good thing that had come out of our nightmarish ordeal together, so for now, I clung to it.
“Yes. Just tired,” I replied, pouring Grayson’s soup into the bowl in front of me.
Zac reached into the drawer on our right and handed me a spoon, then looped his arms around my waist again as I stirred the vegetable soup. His chin rested on my shoulder.
Almost as if he sensed us watching him, Grayson looked over at us, smiling widely. “Hi, guys.”
“Hi, Gray,” Zac replied, continuing to hug me.
“How come you guys are always staring at me?”
I chuckled. “Because we love you.”
“Okay.”
Without another word, he went back to his coloring, and I smiled. My little artist. I wondered idly if his biological mom had been artistic, too. I liked to think so. Then maybe it was like I’d been meant to be the one to be here for her son when she couldn’t be, to teach him the things she hadn’t had a chance to teach him. Maybe even though Zac and I didn’t have a lot to go on where she was concerned, stuff like that could keep her alive in his heart, without him even realizing it.
Zac stepped back so I could heat up Grayson’s soup, and he leaned a hip against the counter as I did so. I gave him the side-eye. “How come you’re always staring at me?”
“Because I love you,” he replied without missing a beat.
“Okay. Well, stop staring and finish dinner. It smells so good I’m about to chew my arm off.” Grayson had wanted Zac to cook chicken parm again, but he was trying a new recipe for chicken marsala instead since he knew I loved mushrooms. We hoped Gray would at least try it, but so far he said he thought mushrooms werequestionableand wasn’t budging.
He pushed off the counter with a laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding at his phone on the counter. “Looks like you missed a call from Beau.”
Zac had been hanging out with him ever since they’d seen each other at the wedding, and they’d become friends over the last few months. It didn’t mean Lyndi and Beau were destined to become a couple or anything, but I had to admit, the idea of Zac’s closest friend on base dating my sister made me way too excited. Oh, the double-dating we could do.
Giving the timer on the oven five more minutes, Zac picked up his phone and returned Beau’s call. I tuned out their conversation, focusing on Grayson’s dinner of veggie soup and an apple. I put the dishes on the table and called out to him. “Gray, dinner’s ready.”
He jumped up from the table and sat down. “Thanks.”
I started to reply, but then the doorbell rang, making me frown instead. “Who could that be?” I went to the door and looked through the peephole.
“Who is it?” Grayson asked.
Swinging the door open, I grinned. “Ms. Hattie.”
