Page 40 of Dream Weaver

“But he has to eat!”

My stomach growled again, and I answered without thinking. “I’d love pizza. My treat, if you don’t mind waiting for me to take a quick shower.”

For the record, that was my bear side doing the talking. My human side was too exhausted to think straight.

“We don’t mind,” Claire assured me.

Abby shot Claire a look, though the flush of her cheeks said she agreed with the sentiment.

“Um…no. We don’t mind.”

My bear did a happy dance.

“But it’s our treat,” she added quickly.

Putting off that argument for later, I rocketed away to the fastest shower of my life, fueled by a second wind.

“Hot date, huh?” Mark chuckled.

I did my best to laugh him off. “Right. With my blacksmith boss and her kid. Not exactly date material.”

“It could be,” Mark said. “Women love when you like their kids.”

Ha. Mark practically was a kid himself. What did he know?

Still, my heart pounded, and as rushed as I was, I shaved extra carefully. Luckily, I had jeans and a clean white shirt in my locker — a nice button-up, not a free T I’d gotten from a charity event or a grateful local business. Not exactly coverboy material, but a step up from the work clothes Abby usually saw me in.

I checked my hair and beard, slapped on a little cologne — courtesy of Chuck, though he didn’t know it yet. His locker neighbored mine, and he was a rookie, so I didn’t feel too guilty.

Finally, I hurried outside, where Abby watched Claire hopscotch over invisible lines.

“Ready.” I closed the firehouse door behind me.

Abby looked over, then did a double take. Her throat rippled with a gulp, and her eyes traveled over my body.

“Oh! You look so nice, Mr. Cooper!” Claire exclaimed.

“Good enough for pizza night?” I asked.

“Real good,” Abby murmured. “I mean…uh…fine.”

I hid a grin.

“You smell nice too,” Claire added. “Smell him, Mommy.”

I laughed. Abby looked half mortified, half tempted. “Sweetie, we don’t smell people. Not like Roscoe does.”

“Well, you still smell good, Mr. Cooper,” Claire insisted.

I grinned. “Just Cooper.”

Alice crossed the lot just then, and she chipped in her two cents. “Huh. You clean up pretty good, Lundsven.”

I did when I cared. And tonight, I cared. A lot.

Don’t mess this up,my bear growled.

It made sense to take one car, and thank goodness for Claire’s pleadings for that to be my pickup, where she could ride in the front seat — the only seat — with us. I added another reason to love the kid to a very long list.

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