Page 60 of Meet Me In The Dark

“She’s out with Lena. They should be home soon.”

I head outside and find him by the back fence, wiping sweat from his brow while the dog sniffs around his booted feet.

“Therapy can wait,” I say, already pulling off my suit jacket. “What are we working on?”

“Replacing the outer boards. Some are rotting.”

Perfect.

I roll my sleeves up to my elbows and get to work. I need something real. Something I can dig into. I need to sweat, not stew.

Wes doesn’t talk much. Never has. He only speakswhen necessary. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about him. It means I don’t have to fill the silence with explanations or excuses.

Right now, that’s exactly what I need.

∞∞∞

We finish up just as the sun dips low and the air starts to cool. Both of us settle onto the porch steps with bottles of water instead of beer. It’s a rare show of maturity. Or maybe just the knowledge that one of us has a toddler who wakes up at sunrise. The other is now following a woman on her morning run.

I’m halfway through chugging mine when the door flies open and tiny foot-thunder echoes behind me.

There she is.

Rosie barrels straight for me and slams into my back, arms wrapping around me with all the strength her little body can muster.

Laughing, I twist around and lift her onto my lap. “There’s my favorite girl,” I say, bouncing her on my knee.

“None of us can get a look in when you’re here.” Wes grunts. “Hi, Princess.”

“Hi, Dada,” she mumbles, not even looking at him as she buries her face in my neck.

She sniffs, then immediately jerks back, nose wrinkling in betrayal.

“‘You and Dada stinky.”

“Sorry, Princess,” we both say in unison.

Already thoroughly disgusted with the male species, she scurries off my lap and heads for the dog before flopping onto the grass.

“Hey there, Pretty Boy.”

I look up as Lena steps outside while tying her hair back.

“Hello, Warrior Princess,” I reply, the nickname sticking ever since the day she almost knocked me unconscious with a frying pan.

It was my own fault. She hadn’t been working as Wes’s nanny for long when I strode in and picked Rosie up. She had no idea who I was and thought I was trying to kidnap the kid.

Leaning over, she presses a kiss to Wes’s lips. “You both stink.”

“So we’ve been told,” he says, chuckling. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” she replies, eyes glittering before she grabs a deck chair, drags it onto the grass, and sits facing us. “Why is Julian stressed?” she asks Wes, like I’m not here.

Wes doesn’t even hesitate. “Woman problems.”

The fuck?

“I didn’t even say anything.”