Page 84 of Every Little Kiss
Paxton climbed on the couch and put the book in his lap. Overcome with emotion, Liv sat beside him, opening the book so that it rested on both of their laps. Clearly focused on a specific destination in this walk down memory lane, Paxton flipped past the first few pages, and that’s when Liv knew what he was turning to.
“What’s his name?” He pointed to a photo of Sam when he’d been in high school, down at the lake with his dog.
“I think that was Shadow,” Liv said. He was a black Lab and loved to dive off the dock.
“Could he fly?”
“It sure looks like it in this photo,” she said with a smile. Shadow was front leg forward, hind legs straight back, in midair hovering over the water with the dock behind him.
“Where’s his other dog?” Paxton asked right as a soft knock sounded.
Moments later, Carolyn opened the door and peeked in. “Are you all packed up?” she asked, cautious hope lacing her words.
Paxton looked up at Liv and whispered, “My belly feels funny.”
“Some of that is nerves, because it’s normal to be nervous about doing something new. But some of that is also excitement, because you’re going on an adventure.” Liv stuck her hand out. “Try to find the nerves and put that in my hand for me to hold, so all of the flutters left are excitement.”
Paxton closed his eyes, a look of concentration causing his tongue to peek out. Then her brave little guy placed his hand over Liv’s and dropped the fear in her hand. And when he opened his eyes, he didn’t look confident, but he also didn’t look as scared.
“All right.” She stood and grabbed his backpack. “Let’s get you guys on the road.”
Walking to the door, not looking back to see if he was coming, Liv handed the backpack to Carolyn.
“Thank you for this,” Carolyn said quietly. “After what I said the other day, I wouldn’t have been so forgiving.”
“You were right when you said Sam wouldn’t have liked that his son didn’t get to spend time with you,” Liv said. “And I don’t like the distance his death has brought between us, Carolyn.”
“I don’t either,” the older woman said.
“Then let’s fix that,” Liv said, and Carolyn nodded, looking as if she were one blink from waterworks.
Right there with you.
“Now you two have fun, and I’ll see you in the morning at Shelia’s so we can all grab a family breakfast.”
“Sounds good,” Carolyn said, taking his mini-size backpack. “Ready, Paxton?”
Paxton looked up at Liv, and she pulled him in for one final hug before he set off. And before she let go, she said, “You got this.”
Paxton didn’t look as if he completely believed her, and she couldn’t be certain there weren’t going to be some tears and rough patches over the next twelve hours. But she knew that they’d be okay. Because Paxton didn’t answer his grandma, but he walked out the door instead of running back to Liv, and he took his grandma’s hand.
Telling her what he needed. And wouldn’t you know it, it seemed that was what Carolyn needed too, because she looked up at Liv with glassy eyes and mouthed,Thank you.
Liv watched them go. She watched as he climbed into Carolyn’s car and didn’t stop watching until the brake lights disappeared around the corner.
Normally, when Ford invited a woman over to his place to talk, the majority of the lip action took place in the bedroom. Yet there he was, three feet from a beautiful woman in a blue strapless number that was designed to be slowly peeled down her body—with his teeth—and the only thing he was peeling was carrots.
He didn’t even like carrots. But since steak and salad took five minutes to prepare, leaving him with idle hands and memories of exactly how creative they could get on this counter, Ford had gone for a five-component meal—including boneless pork chops, apple chutney, white cheddar potatoes, endive slaw, and candied carrots. Not that there was enough to keep him distracted all night.
At some point, he’d have to come clean. Which would lead to the reason why he was here ... in Sequoia Lake. As soon as he did, no amount of reasoning would make her understand why he hadn’t told her about Sam.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” she asked, leaning against the island. “I might not be Martha Stewart, but I can be trusted with a peeler.” Ford looked pointedly at her fingers, most of them tipped with Band-Aids. “Sewing machines should really come with an emergency brake.” She reached for the endive and a knife. “At least let me help with the salad.”
“It’s not salad. It’s slaw.” Ford lifted the knife from her hand and set it on the counter. Then he lifted Liv by the hips and set her stubborn ass on a bar stool, and damn if she didn’t feel like sex wrapped in silk. “And you can help by sitting your stubborn ass right here and relaxing.”
He handed her a glass of wine, and not waiting for an answer or the right moment to do the wrong thing, Ford went back to his plan—keeping his hands to himself.
“Cooking is actually relaxing for me,” she said, sweeping her long dark hair off her shoulders so that it spilled down her back.
