Page 38 of Interpreter

“Anyway, as I was saying before the whole wrinkle fiasco—”

My mouth opens, ready to argue that it isn’t a wrinkle but simply a cute crease, but she points a finger straight at me, warning me to stay quiet. “Youdoseem happy with your family. When you’re at school, you’re closed off. With them—” She waves her hand toward Anniston, wrinkle forgotten, and points to the rest of my family who are spreading out blankets toward the front. “—with them, you smile.”

With them I smile….

She’s an observant little thing, isn’t she?

“I smile,” I lie, and it earns me an eye roll.

“You smile when you leave.”

And she’s a smart-ass; it’s not like I don’t have enough of those in my life already.

“That’s not true. Now you’re just making shi—stuff up because of the whole wrinkle comment.” I shoot her a playful glare. “I smile.”

Or at least Iwantedto smile at her when she took great care while painting the owl on Aspen’s face. The toddler on my lap held so still while Milah maneuvered around my legs, getting the angle just right. Her scent was everywhere. Vanilla and something more… exotic. Something that reminds me of sun and sand. Something that reminds me of Vegas. Home.

It’s been said that when you lose one of your senses, your remaining senses heighten. I don’t know if itisthat they heighten or that you pay them more attention. It’s like when you eat garlic. By itself, it’s harsh and overpowering, but when you add it to a dish—like spaghetti—it’s light and blends with the other flavors. I think that’s how my senses worked. When I had all five, I had a perfect blend—a sampling of all the flavors. Now that I have four, I’m able to focus on each one separately, letting their power overwhelm and flood me with each individual flavor.

“We’ll agree to disagree about the smile,” she says, her hands moving in tandem.Hello, reality check, how I’ve missed you.

“You don’t have to sign,” I tell her, hoping my words come out more as a whisper and not silent.

“It’s getting dark. You won’t be able to see my face if I don’t. Wait!” She pulls out her phone and turns on the flashlight. “There, now you can see me.”

It’s back. The urge to flee is coursing through me at a speed I think I won’t be able to control. I move, snagging Aspen around the waist, ready to take her to Anniston and Theo and walk home. All twenty miles.

“Tim, stop.”

I can barely see her lips, and that pisses me the fuck off. She was right. In a few minutes, I won’t be able to read her lips. I probably won’t even be able to see her sign without the light on her phone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she says, but this time she doesn’t sign. She’s trying not to upset me, and that makes me feel shittier.

I sigh, releasing Aspen—who eyes me like only she can. Her tiny little hand reaches for my face. Her mother used to do the same thing to Cade when he would have an episode from his PTSD. I wonder if Anniston notices she does it. That she calms me with a soft touch.

“I’m okay, munchkin,” I whisper, placing a kiss on her hand before pretending to bite it. Her mouth opens, and I crave to hear the laughter I know is spilling out of her.

After a minute, I see Milah signing, telling Oliver that I’m fine. Dammit. Now I’ve upset everyone.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Milah, running my hands over my face and seeing smeared paint. That’s the story of my life. Nothing in my life lasts. It’s all temporary.

“Here, let me help you.”

The damn light on her phone is still on. She was right. I do need it—even if I fucking hate it.

“May I?” She pulls up the corner of my shirt still hanging off her body. And like I’ve lost my damn mind, I nod.

It takes her a minute, almost as if she’s giving herself a pep talk, but eventually, she brings the edge of the fabric up to my face and wipes with one long, fluid stroke. Incredible. It feels freaking incredible. I’d even say it feels better than when she was painting it on in the first place.

Milah literally had her arm fully extended so she wouldn’t get close to me when she was painting the cartoon owl on my cheek. She was flustered. And when it came time to add the finishing touches, her hands shook when she had to lean in close. Really close. I couldn’t help myself; I took one long drag of her sweet scent like I was trying to get high. I felt her hand twitch against my cheek as her fingers held my face steady. We were so close. So close that we were breathing the same air. And then it was over, leaving her face crimson and me pleading with my dick so I wouldn’t get a boner while holding a toddler. I didn’t; I’m just saying it was a close fucking call.

Both of Milah’s hands go to my cheeks. Look at Aspen giving away all my secrets. Soon, I won’t be able to pull away from Milah. She already has my attention. Her putting her hands on me is a bad idea.

“Hold still.” She pulls back so I can see her lips, and fuck me, I smile.

“Ah! You smiled!”

Her face is ridiculous. I smile all the time.

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