Page 24 of Chasing Forever

Chapter Fourteen

Merritt

Ilooked up from the stove as Tristan came walking into the kitchen, dressed in his sweats and tee with Doc cradled in his arms like a baby. The dog’s stubby little legs were shooting straight up in the air as Tristan casually rubbed his belly, and I had to roll my teeth between my lips to keep from laughing. Levi and I had been living with Tristan for a little over two weeks now, and it had become clear that, if Tristan was home, the dog didn’t do much walking on his own. It was adorable and ridiculous at the same time.

It was also more than a little problematic. Doc wasn’t exactly light, so every time Tristan carried him around, the muscles in his biceps and forearms flexed and were on full display.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all those bombs he’d dropped on me last week. The booster seat and the nickname, not to mention all the other sweet, meaningful things he’d done between then and now without even realizing; it was starting to get to me.

From where I stood, the man was the total package. Handsome, kind, funny, loved animals and kids, and selfless. I kept searching for a flaw, for any sign that there might be something darker lurking beneath the surface, but I was coming up empty. He was a good man. Agreatman. And that knowledge scared the hell out of me, because it made it impossible not to like him.

“Something smells great,” he said as he continued with Doc’s belly rubs. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Chicken stir fry,” Levi answered in a tone that would make you think I was feeding the kid dirty mop water.

I twisted from the stove to where he was sitting at the island, drawing pictures on pieces of construction paper. I propped a hand on my hip as I shot him a look. “Whoa. What’s with the tone, little dude?”

His face scrunched up like he’d just caught a whiff of Doc’s poop. “It’s got vegetablesin it.” He saidvegetableslike the word personally offended him.

My brows climbed up my forehead. “What’s wrong with vegetables?”

“They’re disgustin’,” he stated with a straight face. “And you put them ineverything. Even the macaroni and cheese you made had broccoli in it. You’re puttin’ so much green in stuff my skin’s gonna turn green!”

I shot Tristan a glare, silently warning him to keep his trap shut when he snorted.

“I’ll have you know that vegetables are good for you.” And I had a feeling they hadn’t exactly been a staple of his diet up until recently. “They help you grow big and strong and keep you healthy.”

“And they taste like dirt,” he deadpanned.

“They do not,” I declared in offense. “I make them taste good. And that broccoli was drowning in so much cheese it was barely healthy.”

He threw his arms up exasperatedly. “Then why even put it in?”

“He’s got you there, Dandelion,” Tristan added unhelpfully.

If he wasn’t careful, I was going to slip something into his food that would have him running to the bathroom every five minutes.

I gave Levi a stern expression and pursed my lips. “Well, I’m the adult and I make the rules, and one of my rules is you’ll eat vegetables at least once a day. End of discussion.”

I wouldn’t ever admit it to either of them, but I might have been going a little overboard with the vegetables. But I knew Ozzy hadn’t cared enough to make sure his son was eating healthy, balanced meals every day. There was also a small, irrational part of me that was willing to do anything to make me look good to Levi’s case worker. If vegetables were the deciding factor in whether or not the state would grant me custody of my nephew, I’d grind them up and mix them into a freaking cake.

He crossed his arms over his little chest and stared me down, a challenge glinting in his eyes. “Fine, but I get ice cream after dinner.”

I mimicked his stance. “Are you trying to haggle with me right now?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Sometimes I could swear the kid was too damn smart for his own good. “How about this, you keep giving me grief and I’ll throw out all the ice cream in the house and replace it with nonfat frozen yogurt.”

“For the love of God, kid, back down,” Tristan muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Levi blew out a loud, obnoxious raspberry, but didn’t say another word.

I grinned victoriously and turned back to give the food a stir. “Now go put your stuff up. Dinner’s about ready.”

“Yes ma’am.” He hopped off the stool, gathered up his paper and crayons, and bolted out of the kitchen.

Doc let out a bark and began to squirm in Tristan’s arms, demanding to be put down so he could chase after his boy.

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