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“It is.” What was going on here? I grabbed poor Jay and hugged him hard. I hadn’t seen him for so long, and God, I’d missed these two.

“Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in America.”

“I don’t know. I’m a child.” Jasmine. Far too clever with her snarky little laugh.

“I’m ten now,” Jay said. “Did you know that?”

Of course I did. He was a big boy. So grown up. Where had my small babies gone?

“I know. I sang to you over the phone, and you had a blue cake, remember?”

“It didn’t have corn syrup in it. But then corn is a vegetable.”

“Yes, it is.” I smiled. So very much Jay. Full of questions and impossible answers. My handsome young man. So gorgeous, just like his little sister with her hair in perfect little braids. “Listen, you two, if you go up to Daddy and Dadda, then I will join you in a second. I need to get some clothes on.”

“Why are you not wearing clothes?” Yes. Very bright observation, Jasmine. “You’re not wearing clothes either.” She continued crawling up the bed and attempted to lift the duvet next to Dylan to confirm her suspicions. He grasped at the duvet and squirmed away from her.

Yeah. This was bad. No good. I got it; God knew I did.

“Upstairs, everyone! Now!” I shouted with newfound enthusiasm, waving my hands in the air and making Jasmine bounce up and down on the bed. “There are waffles upstairs; I can smell them!”

I couldn’t but hey, little white lies. It did the trick anyway.

“I’m gonna go,” Dylan said, making a run for the bathroom, grabbing his clothes off the floor on the way, that gorgeous little backside of his bobbing from side to side.

It was silly how much I liked seeing it. Him. Bare.

“Don’t go,” I begged. “Come upstairs, meet the kids.”

“Too early,” he insisted. “You need time. Catch up.”

How things could change. A few minutes ago, everything had been so good. Now suddenly? Fractured. A strange mix of extreme joy and horrific fear that I’d just ruined everything.

“You don’t need me here,” he said, reappearing fully dressed, turning in a circle to try to find his shoes.

They were by the door. And I was still stark naked. And now he was sitting on my dining chair, trying to put his shoe on the wrong foot. Even I could see that, standing here like the idiot I was, and the kids were coming downstairs again, shouting at the top of their voices.

“Upstairs!” I barked, regretting it instantly as they disappeared.

I never shouted at the kids. Ever. But I was naked, and this was all going wrong and what on earth was happening?

“I’ll see you later,” he said casually, getting up from the chair.

I had my shirt in my hand, trying to cover myself up. I wasn’t doing a particularly good job of it.

“Dylan,” I said, but he was already gone.

I’d wanted to kiss him. Hold him. Tell him all those things that were still buzzing around in my head despite it sounding like I was hosting a bulldozer convention upstairs—suitcases getting rolled across the floor, no doubt, accompanied by children shouting, and now Jasmine was crying.

And I had no idea how everything had suddenly gone so wrong.

Looking more presentable, I stomped up the stairs and was met with the usual chaos. As predicted, Gray was standing by the stove, making waffles. He’d already managed to make one hell of a mess, his upturned suitcase still in the middle of the kitchen floor. Still, he reached for me and allowed me tohug the shit out of him,as he so eloquently demanded. This boy. This ridiculous, wonderful boy. And, of course, my son, who was sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea with a face like thunder.

“I tried to calm him down, Stewart. It’s not a big deal.” Gray. Forever the diplomat here.

“The fuck, Dad?” my son spurted out, putting his tea down heavily on the table. “Seriously?”

“Reuben,” I warned. The kids were in earshot. We all had manners. Seriously, right back at him.