Ollie stands on his chair with a red, plastic fire hat on his head.
I shrug my coat off and untie my boots.
“N-nick’s dad came to school today. He’s a f-firefighter.”
“That’s cool, partner.” I adjust the hat falling over his eyes. “Did you learn about safety and what to do if there’s a fire?”
He grins and nods. “Yep. We gots to make sure our p-protectors are working.”
Sarah smiles at me, turning back to the counter to shred chicken. She’s wearing those damn skin-tight black leggings and a cropped sweatshirt that hangs off her shoulder. It takes everything in me not to slide my arm around her, haul her to the other room, and kiss her until she melts into me.
I’ve waited all day to be here with them. I’ve spent every evening here for the last week, and each night after the kids are in bed, we sit on the couch and talk. Sarah curls into my side, and thoughts of making good on my promise to carry her to bed consume me. I want Sarah desperately, but I won’t rush it or her. I want forever, so I’ll take all the nights on the couch, just talking and her teasing me until we get there.
She glances over her shoulder, catching my eyes running over her body. That flirty smile appears, making those thoughts roar to life and heat shoot through my veins. She turns away, her cheeks turning the tiniest bit pink as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Sarah sets a plate in front of Ollie. “They’re actually called detectors.”
Ollie stutters it out, trying a few times. Sarah has been working with him and enrolled him in a speech program for the spring. It’s slow, but he’s making progress.
Frankie smacks her tray, wiggling to get my attention. I run my hand over her head as she shoves a fistful of mac and cheese into her mouth.
“How was your day?” Sarah hands me a plate.
“The guys are going to drive me to a firing spree. It’s nonstop about Krissy.”
She laughs. “She’s still not talking to anyone?”
“No, and their frustration isn’t helping anything.”
Her arms slide around me, and I pull her close with my free arm. Her head rests against my chest. “Patience, big guy.”
I groan. “I don’t have that.”
“Me either,” Ollie says with a mouthful.
Sarah laughs, releasing me.
“Me. Me. Me,” Frankie says, agreeing.
“Sounds like you three need to readCaps for Saleagain tonight. That peddler wasn’t getting his hats back, yelling at those silly monkeys.”
Ollie giggles. “The monkeys are sn-sneaky.”
Frankie shakes her fist, mimicking the angry peddler.
“See, Frankie gets it,” I say.
“And yet, look how far that got him.” Sarah smiles that beautiful smile, spreading pure joy through my chest. The kind so radiant it’s almost painful.
We eat dinner, and the kids take turns in the bath. I help Ollie find his pajamas, and he tugs his shirt over his head, plopping down on his butt and bouncing when he’s finished.
“Nick’s dad was really c-cool,” he says softly. His eyes lift to mine. “My dad doesn’t like how I t-talk. He thinks I’m dumb.”
I pause. Ollie hasn’t ever mentioned his dad before, and Sarah has only said he doesn’t ask about him. I know from experience that just because you don’t say it doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about them.
I kneel beside his bed. “You know you’re not, right?” His sad eyes meet mine, and a rage ignites for whatever his dad has said to make him feel that way.
“I have to be slow with my words.” He tries really hard not to stutter, meticulously pronouncing each one.
