Page 159 of Duke
Then I hustle through the doorway into the adjoining hotel room, gasping in the most exaggerated way possible when I “stumble” upon my children. They’re busy admiring themselves in the full-length mirror inside the closet.
“Y’all really are the cutest.” I mean that. My heart swells taking in their matching little swimsuits and sun hats. They even went so far as to smear sunscreen on each other’s faces, zinc whitening their noses and cheeks.
We’ve only been in California for two days now, but already freckles are popping out on Robbie’s cheeks, and Maggie’s strawberry-blond hair looks lighter.
She jumps up and down, making the back of her bathing suit ride up. “Can we go to the pool now, Mom? Please? I pooped and everything.”
“She did.” Robbie nods solemnly. “Right after I did. That’s the rule, right? You have to poop and put on your swimsuit before you go in the pool.”
Laughing, I bend down to help Maggie with her wedgie, but she wiggles out of my touch. “Don’t fix it, Mommy. I like it like that.”
“With your cheekies hanging out?” Duke groans from somewhere behind me, his footfalls quiet on the carpet. “Lord save us.”
Maggie shimmies her bottom, making the ruffles there dance. “I like my cheekies.”
“They are the most delicious cheekies ever,” I reply, giving her bathing suit a quick tug. “You’d better put them away before I eat them for lunch!”
She lets out a peal of laughter. “Don’t eat my cheekies, Mommy, please!”
“I’ll do my best to refrain.”
Duke puts his hand on the small of my back after I straighten. “Beach bag is packed. Goggles—”
“You packed myBlueyones, right, Dad?” Robbie asks.
Duke’s face splits into a smile. “Yes, Robbie, I packed yourBlueyones, and thePaw Patrolones, and the ones with the sprinkles on them, and—”
“The Ariel ones?” Maggie pipes up.
“Those, I think I forgot.”
“No, Daddy, no!”
Chuckling, he bends down to swoop her up into his arms. “Of course I remembered your Ariel goggles. They were the first thing I packed.”
“You’re good,” I say.
He turns that smile on me. “I know.”
The kids lead the way down the hotel’s long hallway to the pool deck. We’re in San Diego for the first leg of a two-week trip to California that’s part business, part pleasure. Bellamy Brooks has grown by leaps and bounds, and we’re stopping at stores and suppliers up and down the West Coast for meetings and trunk shows galore. We’re also making stops at places we know the kids will love: San Diego for the sun and sand, Santa Barbara for the zoo, Big Sur for the whimsical vibes.
Is it going to be manic? Yes. Will it also be a ton of fun? Absolutely.
Case in point: the kids literally scream with delight when we head outside to the hotel’s enormous pool, which glitters beneath a wide-open sky. The sun is warm on my chest and shoulders, while the breeze is just cool enough to keep the temperature pleasant. There’s not a whiff of humidity.
“Can we set up a third Bellamy Brooks headquarters here?” Duke grunts as he sets down the beach bag that weighs about as much as our two children combined. “What was the temperature back in Hartsville yesterday? A hundred and eight, I think Cash said?”
“A hundred and nine, actually. Mollie told me her shoes were literally melting onto the pavement downtown.”
Duke turns his head to flash me a wide, white smile. “Not sad we’re missing that.”
“Not a bit.” My heart squeezes at his handsomeness. Hisjoy. “I do miss our people, though.”
“They’ll be there when we get back.”
My entire being lights up when Duke straightens and pulls off his shirt. My husband still cowboys part time on the ranch back home, so he’s as thick and strong as ever. The server passing by does a double take, both of us devouring Duke’s sculpted arms, wide chest, and narrow waist.
“He-hi. Hello.” The server’s voice cracks. “Would you be interested in any food or beverages?”
