Page 57 of Feels Like Home

“I may have over packed,” she admits with awince.

I chuckle and walk up the porch steps, thinking it can’t be as bad as she’s making it out tobe.

Then I feel the need to stretch or run a few laps around the house to gain the ambition to carry the number of bags to the car that are sitting by thedoor.

18

Christine

Two hoursafter weloaded up the pickup, we arrive at the cabin. I gasp when it comes into view. The simplistic beauty of the landscape that surrounds it is already relaxing me. If this place is in any way similar to where Barrett and Tess had their getaway last fall, I can see why they fell in love all overagain.

“This isincredible.”

I look behind me when no one responds and see the boys both staring out their windows, sullen expressions on theirfaces.

Andy reaches over and squeezes my thigh. He inhales deeply before letting it out with a loudpuff.

“You guys ready to show mearound?”

The sound of my voice brings the boys’ eyes to me, and a faint smile appears on both theirfaces.

“Sure,” Reece sayssadly.

When Andy parks the pickup, the four of us open the doors and get out, the gravel under our feet crunching as we move. I stretch my arms above my head, bend over, and hear a sharp intake of breath. I stand straight and turn around to see Andy standing behind me, eyes wide and nostrilsflaring.

His eyes make a lazy trail from my legs, slowing up to get their fill of my chest, covered by a fitted dark gray graphic tee shirt that saysBless ThisMess.

“Damn.”

I blush and raise my eyebrows at him, but he doesn’t look apologetic in theleast.

“Dad! Come onnnnn!” Reece yells from thedoor.

Andy digs the keys out of his front pocket and grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine, as he walks us to thecabin.

As soon as we’re inside, he releases my hand — because the boys take his place, tugging me through the open space to show meeverything.

The square wooden beam that Aidan ran into the corner of, cracking open his forehead and needingstiches.

The slight slope in the hardwood floor that they dramatically slide down with their sock-covered feet, even though it’s barelynoticeable.

The giant washtub basin in the utility room that they once had to sit in to get a tomato juice bath when they were toddlers after they’d been sprayed by askunk.

My heart sinks as they go through memory after memory in every room of the house. The three bedrooms both of them have stayed in on numerous occasions, never committing to preferring one room overanother.

“This is your room this weekend, that work?” Andy says, sidling up next tome.

None of the rooms are fancy or decorated much. The room we’re standing by is bright and decorated in a blue and yellow that reminds me ofsummertime.

“Yup. That works forme.”

“And that’s my room,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling my neck as he points to the door right next tomine.

It doesn’t escape my notice that there’s a Jack-and-Jill bathroom that joins the tworooms.

I shiver when I feel his lips hit my temple and his hands squeeze myshoulders.

“Good to know,” I whisper, my body falling back into his justslightly.

---