Page 158 of A Little Crush
It’s the same question every time. And every time, it leaves me swooning. I love all the research he’s put into being a father and a coach and a husband. How he manages to make me feel seen and appreciated, offering help while also not overstepping his bounds. It’s a fine line, and he masters it more and more every day.
“Nope,” I answer. “Just keep being awesome.”
“Fine, but only if you take a bite of this sandwich to see how burned it is.” He offers me a bite, and I take a quarter of the sandwich just to prove how big of a baby he is. I make it two chews before spitting it into a napkin.
“Okay, that’s awful.”
With a laugh, he wraps his arm around my neck and kisses me, refusing to let me get away unscathed.
“Is everyone still coming over tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah. Everett’s bringing burgers and asked to use the smoker.”
My stomach rumbles at the thought. “That sounds incredible!”
“Fin’s bringing Mama Taylor’s cookies, too.”
I pretend to swoon. “My hero.”
“You’re lucky you and Ophelia both have the samepregnancy cravings,” Jaxon teases. “Apparently, she begged Fin to bring them.”
“Ah, then she’s the one who’s my hero,” I quip. “I don’t know what they put in those cookies, but…” I fan myself as Poppy chimes in.
“I want a cookie! I want a cookie!Pleasecan I have a cookie?”
“You can have a cookie,” I reply. “But only if you promise to be nice to your cousins, okay? Make sure you share the treehouse and follow all the rules. Deal?”
She rolls her eyes, sassy as ever before offering her cute little hand for me to shake. “Deal.”
As I take it, sealing our negotiations with a handshake, the front door opens, and in walks the chaos.
A slew of children tumble in, racing through the house and to the backyard without so much as a hello. Then again, compared to all their cousins, Aunt Rory is chopped liver.
“You guys are early!” I call as the front door swings open again, revealing the rest of the crew.
“Sorry, not sorry,” Finley says. “We left the house early to see if Ashie would nap in the car, but nope.”
“Can’t blame the girl. She just wants to keep up with her older siblings,” Griffin adds. “Speaking of which, hey, baby sister.”
Adjusting her glasses, Dylan gives him a quick squeeze. “Hey, big brother. How’s?—”
I block out their little reunion, popping my head through the sliding glass door, so I can warn the kids about Poppy’s and Jaxon’s afternoon project. “Paint’s still wet on the treehouse, so no going up there! Okay, guys?”
“Good luck,” Reeves quips from behind me. “Poppy’s been bragging about the pirate treehouse to the boys for the past two weeks.”
I rest my hand on my hip like a woman who meansbusiness and face him fully. “Yeah, well, I’m not replacing anyone’s clothes, so…”
“Shit.” Reeves darts out the back. “Boys?—”
“Hey, Squeaks.” Maverick steals a quick hug from me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m great. Baby’s wiggly as ever.” I palm my massive belly. “How’s Lia?”
“Ready for her due date,” he says dryly. “I’m sure you are, too.”
“You have no idea.” I groan. “I’m jealous Ophelia’s due before me.”
“We’ll see. You look ready pop, so?—”
