Page 48 of Creed

“Just doing what I can to impress.”

“You’ve definitely done that.” She looked at the food and smirked. “But you’ve got enough here for an army.”

“Yeah, well. I wasn’t sure who was coming.”

I gave her a wink, then headed for the hall closet. I grabbed a couple of wire hangers I’d twisted into skewers years back and made my way to the porch door. “Give me a second to get the fire started, and then we’ll get dinner going.”

“What can I do?”

“Grab us a couple of drinks and pick out the chips you want.”

She nodded and disappeared into the pantry. I stepped outside and got to work. The fire pit was nothing fancy, just something I’d built myself a while back. It was just a low stone circle, stacked wood, and some kindling to get things moving. I had the flames going by the time she came back out with a tray full of food and drinks.

When I saw her walking toward me, I stepped over and grabbed the tray. “I would’ve gotten all that.”

“Now you don’t have to,” she said, glancing down at the fire and the hangers like she wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or call me crazy. “Wow, you really pulled out all the stops.”

“Nothing but the best for you, babe.”

I opened the pack of hot dogs, slid one onto the hanger, and held it over the fire. She watched me for a second before grabbing her own skewer and following suit. She was watching the flames dance when a smile swept across her lips and she said, “We used to cookout hot dogs like this at the lake…”

“Sounds like a good time,” I said, watching the way her eyes flickered with the memory.

“It was. But it’s been a long time.”

I figured it was something she’d done with the ex, so I didn’t push.

I just kept the fire steady and let the moment settle around us. Truth was, I didn’t want to ruin it. Not when she was sitting next to me, holding a damn hot dog over a flame like we were twenty again. Hell, it wasn’t even ten, and I was already thinking about how much I didn’t want her to leave when the night was over.

12

DEVIN

“Tell me about them.”

I wasn’t sure who he was talking about, so I asked, “Who?”

“Your kids,” I clarified. “You’ve got two, right?”

“Yes, but sometimes it seems like more.” I giggled as I told him, “I have a son named Austin and a daughter named Chrissy, but you already knew that.”

“I got names and ages. That’s about it. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Austin is your typical teenage boy. He’s moody, talks in grunts, and rolls his eyes like it’s his full-time job.”

“Oh, he must get that from his momma.”

“Oh, he has me beat. That’s for sure. But he’s a good kid. He’s so smart, and when he lets his guard down, he’s still that sweet boy with rosy cheeks who used to bring me weeds from the backyard.”

“Weeds?”

“He thought they were flowers.” I shook my head at the memory. I’ve always had a special connection with Austin, not just because he was my first born, because we understood eachother in ways no one else did. “His sister is just as sweet, but she’s also sassy.Very sassy. The kid’s eleven going on twenty-five, and she might be the messiest kid on the planet.”

“Surely not.”

“Oh, it's bad. She thinks shoving crap under her bed qualifies as cleaning. It’s a nightmare when I finally get under there and start pulling stuff out, but she has a heart the size of Texas. She’ll give you her last cookie and somehow make you feel like you’re doing her a favor.”

“She sounds like trouble.”