Page 94 of Before We Fell

She snorted. “And just this morning, I saw pigs flying.”

I chuckled, my laughter rippling the latte in my mug. “So what projects are you working on now?”

It was an effective change of subject. Tinley set down her coffee mug, picked up her phone and for the rest of our time, we talked about redoing my guest bedroom, not because I had to, but because some of the furniture she’d refinished Ineededto have, and my guest bedroom was the only place they’d fit.

Thirty

Noah

“My mom wantsyou to come for Thanksgiving.”

It was two weeks away. Lauren hadn’t mentioned her plans for Thanksgiving even though I repeatedly saw her ignore her mom’s phone calls.

“What?” She wiped her hands on a towel where we were in her kitchen, washing dishes. Some re-make of a Disney Princess movie was on in the background and Riley was glued to it with the intensity I used to stare down prosecutor’s witnesses.

I rested a hip against her kitchen countertop. Reaching out, I snagged the towel she was twisting in her hands and yanked her toward me. She fell forward with an oomph, hands slamming to my chest. “Come to Thanksgiving with me. It will probably be miserable. Mom will try too hard to pretend we don’t miss Amanda and Jake. Riley will be quiet. Dad and I will drink too much beer, fight over football games. It should be a great day.”

No one was looking forward to it. The only thing good would be the food, but I doubted any of us would taste Mom’s pumpkin pies and turkey and sweet potatoes.

We’d scrape through it just like we’d been scraping through life.

“Well, that’s a lovely invitation.” She slid her hands around to my back, tugging me close to her. “Are you sure you want me there?”

I wrapped the towel around her lower back, held it with both hands, and tugged it tightly until I was holding her to me, not touching her except where we were aligned from our chests down.

“I need you there. Riley will need you there.”

“I think you’re underestimating the influential power I have on a eight-year-old.”

“I think you don’t realize how much you’ve helped her heal and you’re selling yourself short.” I popped a kiss to her nose. “Come with me. Unless you’ve decided to go home?”

She shook her head. Burrowing closer to me, like she was trying to invade my skin. She whispered words possibly better than any I’d ever heard in my life.

“You’re my home.”

My forehead fell to the top of her head. It was Sunday morning. We had nothing to do. We’d woken at my place and she’d run home to get dressed after we showered and I’d given her a good reason for needing one. Even now, only a couple hours later, I was ready for a repeat.

I waited until Riley woke up, got dressed, and as she groggily padded to the living room, I already had her shoes and jacket in my hands. “Let’s go to Lauren’s,” I said, shaking my coat.

Riley skipped to me, clapping her hands. “For breakfast? She makes thebestpancakes.”

So here we were, cleaning up pancakes and blobs of syrup Riley had somehow managed to drip all over the floor, the counter, the tips of her hair as she shoveled them into her mouth. The girl could eat.

I dropped the towel still at her lower back and skimmed my hands down her arms to her fingers. Wrapping our hands together, I pulled her forward, stepping backward.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here,” I said, innuendo thick in my voice. I’d been waiting for the right time. A romantic time. The perfect time.

But life wasn’t always perfection and beauty, and you didn’t always have time. Amanda and Jake’s death taught me that.

I walked us backward, toward her bedroom off the kitchen’s eating area, to give us a moment or two of privacy.

In her room, I let her go, and closed the door behind us.

She gaped at me, surprised, with my movements maybe. Hopeful I was going to do something wicked to her.

That’d be later. No way was I doing what I wanted to her with Riley awake and so close to us.

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