Page 60 of Hope After Loss

“It’s for the kid.”

He marches over and plants himself in the middle of the balls and reaches up for Kaela.

Her curious eyes watch him carefully as he sits, urging her to join him. He kicks his legs, and a few balls fly out of the frame and bounce against the side of my desk, ricocheting back toward him.

“Come on. It’s fun,” he urges.

Finally, she wiggles in my arms, trying to get loose, and I hand her off to him.

He sits her in the balls beside him, and she squeals with glee as she takes her hands and swats at the plastic orbs.

Weston grabs two handfuls and tosses them in the air, and they rain down around the two of them.

Kaela starts to bounce up and down in excitement.

“See, she likes it,” he declares.

“Of course she likes it. She’s almost two. What’s your excuse?” I ask.

He sticks his tongue out at me.

I laugh as I watch this big, crazy man swim around in a rainbow of tiny balls, just to make my daughter smile. How lucky am I to have him as a boss?

He is something else.

Once she is settled in, he gets out, and the two of us assemble the play fence around the ball pit and add a blanket and some pillows along with other toys to occupy her while we work.

Standing back, Weston surveys the setup.

“How long do you think it’ll be before she can escape this thing?” he asks.

“If she tried hard enough, she could do it now. She just doesn’t know it yet,” I muse.

He bends down and looks her in the eye. “You stay put, Baby Duck. No climbing the fence.”

She cackles at him and flips backward into the balls.

“I think we’re safe for now,” he states.

Winter has slowly morphed into spring in the Smoky Mountains. Easter is next week, and the farm is gearing up for planting.

Weston spends most of the day out on the land, installing the irrigation systems for the new fields with Rich and Edward, while I handle receiving shipments of seed stock and clones from a farm in Colorado.

When he drags himself into the office six hours later, he is covered in dirt and exhausted.

There’s just something extra appealing about a man who’s been working hard all day. I try not to stare as he peels the sweat-soaked tee over his head, revealing bulging arms, a broad chest, and sexy abs.

Damn.

I distract myself by bouncing Kaela on my knee as he pulls on a clean shirt and disappears into the break room.

“Woo, I think Momma needs a cool drink of water,” I whisper.

“Ma-ma, Ma-ma,” Kaela babbles.

“Oh my God, Weston,” I shout.

He comes sprinting back through the door, wiping his face with a wet towel. “What?”