A second later, he was gone.
“Got your go bag with you?” Dante asked Hunter.
The man nodded. “Yeah. In my trunk.” He walked over to Christa, who slid her arms around him and gave him a rather hot kiss.
Amanda glanced at the kids, but they were too busy playing to take notice.
“I’m not sure when we’ll be done,” Dante said, stepping to her.
She set her hands on his chest and smiled. “No worries. I can crash on the couch if I get tired.”
“Or in my bed,” he said, his low voice sending a tremor through her body.
She hadn’t been in his bed since that glorious day his attitude had changed. But she understood his words to be an invitation to change that.
“Or in your bed.” She smiled, lifting up on tiptoe to kiss him, another thrill shooting through her when he took the embrace up a notch from a quickie to a hard promise for more to come later.
She liked later.
“Be careful,” she told him when he released her.
Dante nodded, glanced at his son who was still too busy playing to pay the adults any mind, then followed Hunter through the gate that led to the driveway.
Amanda glanced at Christa. “Wheels up?”
“Mac flies a chopper he keeps in the big hangar on his property,” Christa answered.
She blinked. “He flies a helicopter? How did I not know this?”
Christa smiled. “It’s not an everyday thing.”
“And what in the world is QRF?”
“Quick Reaction Force. Means ready to react.” Christa laughed. “I had to ask Hunter to explain that one to me, too.”
Christa insisted on helping her clean up, and Amanda only conceded because she knew the woman was just trying to keep busy so she didn’t think of the guys in Houston. They even allowed the boys to play outside a little longer than normal, but it was getting dark, and bedtime was fast approaching.
“Okay, boys,” she said, pointing to her phone. “I’m setting the ten-minute warning alarm.”
Twin groans echoed in the yard.
“You know the drill,” Christa said, holding her phone up as well.
Both boys knew that it meant when the alarm sounded, it was the end of the playdate and time to clean up. They didn’t like it, but they understood and for the most part, complied.
“Yes, Mom,” Dillan said dejectedly to Christa.
“Yes, Mom,” Noah said to her.
Amanda’s heart rocked, and swelled, even though she knew he’d said it in more of a repetition fashion.
“Miss Amanda isn’t your mom,” Dillan said to Noah. “But she could be.”
Noah’s little face brightened. “She could? How?”
“Well, my dad wasn’t always my dad.”
Noah blinked at Dillan. “He wasn’t?”
