Page 22 of Bearly Taken

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, as I slipped into the driver’s seat.

“I want to.” The honesty in his voice was undeniable, and it made my face warm.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He nodded, and closed the door for me.

I let out a slow breath as I turned the car on while he stepped back and waited.

If he kept up with that, resisting him would quickly grow impossible.

Reed textedme pictures of Parker throughout my shift, as soon as the little guy was up. Whatever lingering fear I had faded away with every message.

When I met them back at Reed’s house—our house—he had the diaper bag already packed to go. When I learned that he’d texted my mom to ask her what I usually brought for Parker, it made my face warm.

While we were at the bookstore, Reed spent the morning in the kids’ area with Parker. During the little guy’s nap, he asked me to teach him how to work the cash register and show him what else I did to keep the place running. Though I was hesitant, he genuinely seemed interested, so I did.

When Parker woke up, Reed told me he’d watch the register until something he couldn’t figure out came up, and waved me into the kids’ room.

My emotions welled in my throat as I spent an hour playing with my son, without worrying about the store. I felt bad letting Callie, Sylvie, or my mom take over like that, so I rarely let them watch the register for me.

The way he could tell I wanted to, and insisted on it, meant the world to me.

When we got home, I found the dinner Reed had left in the crockpot.

It was another one of my favorite meals.

We went through Parker’s evening routine, like usual. The little guy was angrier than he had been the day before, but by some miracle, the yelling and tears didn’t send Reed running.

After we put him in his crib, Reed sat in the bathroom doorway with his back to me while I showered, just like he had the night before.

Despite the worry I’d started the day with, he had done everything he possibly could to ease my fears.

And it worked.

That routine lasted an entire month.

We played house.

Reed stayed.

Parker started calling him “dada,” though he usually yelled it in a battle cry of “DADADADA”.

We ran the bookstore together, though I was still working mornings.

He handled groceries, and paid for them too.

And though he kissed me on the cheek or forehead every morning and evening, he never pushed for anything more than that.

I didn’t, either.

But I wanted to.

I was just terrified of what would happen if I changed the dynamics.

But early into our second month, I parked behind the diner, and didn’t get out of the car.

I’d been up half the night before, thinking about Reed.

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