Page 44 of A Place Like You

Wren: Did I tell you that this weekend we’re going to dig dinosaurs?

Drake: I heard.

Wren: If I could, I would invite you.

Drake: Thank you, but we have to follow the rules. Just make sure to take enough pictures and videos.

Wren: You got it. We’re heading to the school. See you in thirty minutes.

Drake: Probably more, Mr. Jensen is here for a rash. Wish me luck.

Wren::shamrock: emoji

Chapter Twenty-Five

Wren

What am I doing with my life? Ever since Drake started working for me, he’s been having dinner with us every evening. Sometimes I cook, other times he brings something prepared by his brother.

After we eat and clean up the kitchen, he sticks around to hang out with us. The fact that he looks adorable, either playing ball with Milo or reading books, makes me melt. I know I should be more guarded, but he’s so amazing with my boy that it’s impossible to draw a line.

I just hope Milo doesn’t get the wrong idea.

This evening, like many others, I lean in the doorway, unable to stop smiling as I watch them. Drake sits cross-legged on the floor, his large frame hunched over the coffee table as he dramatically reads Milo’s favorite book collection. The ones with dinosaurs. His sound effects and roars send Milo into delighted giggles.

At work, Drake is serious, but here he’s so playful and patient. He seems to like spending time with us more than anything. I know I shouldn’t read too much into it, that I need to keep my distance. But this just feels so right.

“Bronto munched on leaves, watching glumly as the others played with a ball,” Drake narrates. He turns the page and pitches his voice higher. “‘What’s wrong, Bronto? Why aren’t you playing?’ asked Polly.”

Milo’s laughter rings out while I watch from the doorway, resisting the urge to join in. Drake really does have a knack for voices—even I can’t quite match his vocal range and dramatic flair.

When they finish, Drake glances up, catching my eye with a warm grin. “Instead of spying over there, you should help me with the voices.”

My cheeks warm with embarrassment at being caught, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Maybe next time.”

Milo’s head whips toward me, eyes bright. “You could try. Drake does voices waaay better than you, Mom.”

His enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t help but come over and ruffle his hair affectionately. “I heard. His dinosaur roar is pretty impressive.”

“Can you read another book?” Milo pleads, bouncing in place. Drake chuckles warmly, obliging with another dramatic reading, this time of Milo’s beloved book: Triceratops Try Tacos.

Drake looks so natural with Milo, as if they’ve known each other for ages. His eyes sparkle with genuine joy, and his lips curve into a tender smile as he listens to Milo’s animated questions about tacos, triceratops, and if Gael could make Tricer-tacos for dinner.

Throughout their playful interaction, I notice Drake stealing glances at me now and then, his eyes soft and tender. The sight sends a flutter of anticipation through me, wondering what thoughts or feelings might be swirling behind those eyes. But just as quickly, I halt my hopeful fantasies and start second-guessing myself.

Ifocus my attention on Milo’s infectious laughter and the adorable way he imitates Drake’s roars. Yet, beneath the surface, a mix of excitement and nervousness churns whenever our eyes meet. My emotions are a whirlwind, but I can’t afford to let them run wild. Just then, my phone chimes with a text.

Grateful for the distraction, I glance away from Drake’s handsome face and find a message from Sutton.

Sutton: So, he’s at your house again, huh?

Wren:What are you talking about?

Sutton: Dr. Hottie Drake.

Wren: What about him?

Sutton:I know the good doctor had dinner with you and hasn’t left your place yet.

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