Page 90 of Ardently Yours

I clear my throat. “Sand dunes for a couple hours. Then back to the cabin for dinner.”

Henry shakes his head. “Dad, youcan’t cook.”

“It’s under control.” I shoot him an exasperated glance, and he shrugs doubtfully.

“At the cabin, can we play cowon hoe? I seen it,” Bronnie says.

“Errr.” I try to catch Charlotte’s eye because I have no idea what “cowon hoe” is, but Charlotte gives Bronnie an enthusiastic smile. “We sure can, baby.”

Bronnie punches out both her arms and legs in a random flurry of activity, then points at me. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna kick your butt.”

Gabriel’s eyes flare wide in affront. “You can’t say that.”

She looks back at her mother in confusion. “Jack says youhaveto talk smack. It’s the rules.”

“Bad sportsmanship,” Gabriel says. “Bad form.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“I’m gonna kick your butt too!” Bronnie flails her arms and legs again.

Charlotte purses her lips. “Trash talking is a Miller family tradition. You can’t play cornhole without it.”

Ah.Cornhole. Whatever the hell that is.

Bronnie is tiny for her age. She’s smaller than my boys were when they were three years old, let alone four. But she’s flailing around with the most determined expression on her face. Henry and Gabriel have studied martial arts since they were practicallytoddlers. Henry is less naturally coordinated, but the level of training they've both had have given them impressive control over their own bodies, but Bronnie is . . . wild. It’s adorable.

“Cornhole must be a veryenergeticgame,” I say.

“Yeah, it is.” Bronnie punches the air one more time.

I take a breath, swipe a hand down my face, and try to scrub off my grin. Bronnie dimples up at me, her fists coming to rest on her hips. “Bring it, sucker.”

Closer to Fine

Charlotte

Arden returns from grillingthe hamburgers just as I finish sprinkling the potato salad with paprika.

I rush forward. “Oh my God. Is that a burn? Do you need a hospital?

He sets the tray of blackened burgers on the counter and rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve had worse sunburns. The grill was smoking. So I lifted the lid to check on it and—”

Whoosh!” Gabriel yells, rushing past and miming fire exploding from the grill. “My eyebrows. My eyebrows!”

Arden scowls. “I was not that dramatic.”

Gabriel giggles and rushes out onto the front porch where we can see Henry through the windows “supervising” Bronnie as she attempts to copy his jiu-jitsu forms.

I rush to the sink and run a clean hand towel under the water.

I wring it out and dab at Arden’s reddened face. “Does that feel any better?”

He puts his hand on my wrist and draws the cloth away. We’re so close he feels like a gravitational force. As though I’m having to fight nature to prevent plastering myself against him.

“I’m fine, Charlotte. Just embarrassed.”

---