Page 48

His hand brushes mine, on purpose, for a single moment and it sends a spark through my arm like the wick on a firework.
And so we do it all. Starting with a balloon animal hat that Jax insists we all try on. To my surprise, Ethan plays along, donning it with a grumpy face that makes Jax laugh. Then Jax does the same, mimicking Ethan’s expression and making me laugh. After that, I wear the hat and make a silly face and before I know what’s happening, Ethan snaps a picture. My mouth pops open and he just shrugs, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans. Then, before I can say anything, he grabs my hand and we follow Jax to the food vendors.
“What is this?” Ethan asks as I hand him a plate.
“Are you telling me you’ve never had a Navajo taco?” I ask in disbelief.
Ethan arches an eyebrow at the steaming pile of food in front of him. “This…is a taco?”
Jax and I both giggle. “So this is fry bread. Like a funnel cake without the sugar. And they just load it with taco meat and cheese and onions and lettuce and beans and salsa and–”
“Sold.” Ethan says before cutting off a slice and popping it into his mouth. I hold my breath while he makes anMmmsound.
“Yeah?” I ask, digging into the one I bought to share with Jax.
“Oh yeah. Hell yeah.” He nods, taking another bite and I have to laugh.
“I kind of like this version of you.” I say, feeling the heat in my cheeks as I say the words.
“Oh yeah? And what version is that?” He nods up at me.
“The jean wearing, band t-shirt clad, food truck food eating Ethan. By the way, do you actually listen to the bands on your shirts or–”
Ethan looks to make sure Jax isn’t paying attention before subtly giving me the middle finger and making me laugh.
“For your information, Missy, Aerosmith is my favorite band.”
I crinkle my nose at that. “That’s so Dad Rock of you.” I joke. Then I look up at him to see if the banter is going too far. But the way he bites his lip and drags it between his teeth tells me it’s not.
“I have a lot of versions you don’t know about,” he adds in a low voice. The words send a shiver down my spine and straight between my thighs. I cross my legs and keep eating. All the while, Ethan has a smug grin on his face.
We go on rides and get cotton candy and Ethan even wins Jax a giant Panda bear. After the sun has fallen, he carries a sugar-crashed, sleeping Jax into the house and I carry the bear. “I can’t believe you bought him this thing.” I grumble.
“I didn’t buy it. I won it.”
He whispers, shifting Jax’s weight in his arms to punch the door code in.
“You had to play five rounds to get it. It cost you fifty dollars. You paid for it.”
“And it was worth every penny.” He winks at me and we go inside. I set the bear down and take Jax and pad down the hall. I change him into some clean pajamas and shrug off that he will have to skip brushing his teeth for one night, then kiss him on the head and make my way out.
“He is beat,” I smile.
“Good. Kids need days like this.”
Tears sting my eyes and I blink them back. They do. And I haven’t been able to give him many. Today felt different. It feltcarefree and fun and…right. I blink again and clear my throat, following Ethan to the door.
“Thank you,” I say, standing on the step above him. He has his hands in his pockets. The night is warm and so are his eyes. His hair is tousled from the ride Jax talked him into going on. His face is bristled with a shadow of a beard that I am sure he’ll shave off in the morning.
I kind of hope he doesn’t…
I like him gruff. No tie. No slacks. His jaw relaxed into an easy smile. The scent of sugar and sweat and man on his skin.
“Of course.” He nods at me. Then he pulls me gently into him and gives me a soft kiss. “Goodbye, sweetheart.”
“Bye,” I say, the word all breath and I watch as he casually makes his way to his car.
After Ethan leaves, all of my nerves are buzzing. I walk around the house, checking windows, checking doors, even closets, before rechecking the locks. As I brush my teeth and my hair, I hear a thump. Most nights I would assume it was just Jax, rolling into the wall next to his bed or dropping a toy on the floor, something he isn’t supposed to be playing with when he’s falling asleep that falls out of the bed as soon as he dozes off. But tonight, I am more paranoid. My window is still cracked. Last night’s scare is still fresh in my mind.