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KELLER

“Dad, can we get ice cream?” Jace asks from the backseat.

I guess that’s better than him asking if Alana and I are getting married when she first slid in the front seat.

I just hung my head. My boy has no filter.

Thankfully, Alana spared me from answering by redirecting the question and asking what we had planned for the day.

“Are you okay with that?” I’m at a stop sign.

There’s little to no traffic right now, since we started our date around ten o’clock in the morning and it’s just now rounding out to three.

The park was our first adventure. Poor Alana got put to work more than I did with Jace wanting her to go down the slide with him.

Seeing the two of them together, it only solidified just how badly I fucked up when it came to keeping her at a distance.

Jace kept up with calling Alana by the same name he calls her at school, which I know seems awkward, but it works.

That way, he won’t mess up and say the wrong thing at school.

“I’d love to. Will you at least let me buy this time?” Alana is referring to the lunch I bought after our time at the park. It wasn’t anything huge—pizza, salad, and a couple of drinks. That being said, there’s no way in hell I’m letting her think of buying anything on our date.

“Lana, this is a date, so the answer to that would be no.” Her arm is resting on the center console, fingers dangling over the edge. Without another thought, I slide my hand into Alana’s soft one, so much smaller than mine, not work-roughened, and I tangle our fingers together.

“Keller.” The hitch in her throat as she says my name tells me she’s not not affected.

I don’t say anything, though. Nope, I just drive along the road leading to the small ice cream shop that Jace suckers everyone into taking him.

I can’t fault him, not when I was the one who introduced it to him.

You see, he’s got a sweet tooth much like his father, and not having ice cream or some kind of dessert every night would be a damn shame.

“Fine. Maybe next time, I can bake for you guys.” That has me thinking about all kinds of fun stuff.

“Miss. M, do you bake?” Jace asks.

“I do, well, honestly, brownies are probably the most of it, but I can make homemade ice cream like no other.” My eyes drift from the road to Alana’s then to the rearview mirror, seeing Jace’s face light up.

“Oh, can we make both? Dad, please say Miss. M can come over and do that with us? Pretty please?” Jace all but begs.

“Well, it’s up to your dad. We can swing by my place, grab the ice cream maker, and head to your house, or we can do it at mine, instead of getting it from the shop?” she offers.

“Dad, please,” Jace elongates the d at the end of my name.

“Are you sure?” I ask Alana.

“I’m positive.” It doesn’t take me long to do a U-turn and head to her place.

“You okay doing it at my place? Jace gets messy. Plus, if he gets bored while the ice cream is working its magic, he’ll have toys at the house to play with.

” The fact that I’m not sick to my stomach with worry over how things will play out at my place is another awakening.

I’m not even going to touch on the subject of how I’ve already envisioned Alana in all the areas of my house, and not in just a sexual way.

I’m talking getting home from work when she’s home with Jace, and watching her do all the family things with the Hart clan, barbecues with us, dinner with her grandparents, the whole fucking enchilada.

There hasn’t been a stutter step since I got injured either.

The only shitty part is me having to take my hand out of hers to give my left arm from holding the steering wheel while it’s propped on my thigh to keep the pain away from this dumb as hell self-induced injury.

“It’s probably a better idea. My apartment is on the small side, and I may be a school teacher, but I don’t bring all the fun stuff home with me.” Jace is in his booster seat, wiggling around, doing a happy dance that he got his way. Boy is smooth when it comes to helping his old man out.

“What, you don’t want your place to look like a school?” I joke with her.

“Not particularly. Then where would I sleep?” The blush that takes over her cheeks, fuck yeah, I know exactly where her train of thought is going. Mine is right there along with it.

“That would be a problem.” I’d curse my broken collarbone, except for the fact that it’s the reason it got me off my ass to go after the woman who’s sitting beside me.

“Well, she could just sleep over at our house. Uncle Asa says adults have sleepover parties, too.”

“Oh dear, I think that subject is all on you.” Alana leaves me in the dust. Seeing as how we just pulled up to her apartment, I park next to her vehicle, and she’s already out of the truck, laughing while she runs up the steps.

“Bud, what do you say we ignore some of the stuff Uncle Asa tells you?” I’m seriously going to shove a two-by-four up my brother’s ass, and that’ll be happening tomorrow.

“But, Dad, wouldn’t it be fun to have one? I mean, Nana did yell at Uncle Asa when he rolled out of bed with nothing but a sheet wrapped around him that one time we stopped by unexpectedly.” fuck me sideways, this conversation is never going to end.

“Alright, well, how about you tell me which flavors you’re going to ask for instead?” Maybe this redirection will work for me like it did for Alana.

“Oh, definitely vanilla. Maybe mint chocolate chip, too, or maybe cookies and cream, or what do you think?” Thankfully, it worked.

I keep him talking until Alana returns with everything.

I hop out of the truck help her, and then we’re heading back to my place.

Maybe, just maybe, we wore Jace out enough to take a nap and I can steal a kiss or two from Alana. Shit, do I like the thought of that.