Page 15 of Stalked By the Quartermaster

"Remember when we used to burn toast on the regular?" Frank asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Hey now, that was all you, mister 'I can handle the grill'," I shoot back, flipping a pancake onto a plate with a flourish.

"Guilty as charged," he concedes, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist, his lips brushing the nape of my neck. "But look at us now, culinary geniuses."

"Keep that up, and the pancakes might actually burn," I warn, though the truth is, I wouldn't mind if they did. Not if it meant staying wrapped up in his embrace a little longer.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he says, releasing me with a soft kiss that tells me round two is definitely on the menu for later. But for now, the sounds of tiny feet thumping down the hallway signal that it's time to switch gears—from lovers back to parents.

"Breakfast is served!" I call out, just as James and Lily burst into the kitchen, their faces alight with the simple joy of a new day.

"Looks delicious, Mommy!" Lily exclaims, climbing onto her chair with Frank's help.

"Can I have syrup?" James asks, already reaching for the sticky bottle.

"Of course, buddy," I reply, smiling at their eager faces. This, right here, is my perfect world—pancakes, family, and the promise of more stolen moments with the man I love.

I scoop a forkful of scrambled eggs and bring it to my lips, the warmth and buttery flavor making me hum with delight. Across the table, Frank's eyes twinkle with mischief as he watches me eat, his foot finding mine under the table and giving a playful nudge.

"Remember that time we got lost on that hike in the mountains?" he asks between bites, a smirk playing on his lips, as he winks at me.

"Lost? You mean that time you confidently declared you knew the trail like the back of your hand?" I tease back, laughter bubbling from my throat.

"Exactly that time," he says, grinning, as James giggles and Lily claps her hands in amusement.

"Tell us again!" Lily chimes, her blue eyes wide with the innocence and curiosity that warms my heart every single time.

"Alright, little one," I say, clearing my throat for dramatic effect. "Your dad here thought he was some kind of wilderness explorer..."

"Hey, I had it under control," Frank interjects, but his mock indignation only makes the kids laugh harder.

"Sure, until we found ourselves circled back to the same rock three times," I counter with a raised eyebrow.

"Mommy saved us with her compass!" James adds proudly, puffing out his chest.

"Mommy sure did," Frank agrees, reaching over to squeeze my hand. The simple touch sends a current of warmth straight through me, reminding me just how much I love this man—his rugged exterior, his hidden depths, and his undeniable charm.

Our meal wraps up with more shared tales and hearty laughs. We clear the table together, a seamless dance of domesticity that has become second nature to us.

"Park time!" James shouts, nearly knocking over his chair in his rush to get outside.

"Easy, tiger," I call after him, shaking my head with a fond smile. "Let's grab the frisbee."

Soon, we're out under the open sky, the nearby park vibrant with the sounds of children playing and birds chirping. James dashes ahead to the swings, challenging me to push him higher and higher, while Frank helps Lily onto the slide, holding her tiny hand as she prepares for her descent. Her delighted squeals fill the air when she lands, racing back to climb up again.

"Watch this, Mom!" James beckons from the top of the swing set, his adventurous spirit soaring as high as he does.

"Be careful, baby," I call out, though I'm beaming with pride at his fearlessness.

"Come on, Daddy! Catch me!" Lily now stands at the top of the slide, waiting for Frank's reassuring nod before she lets go, trusting him implicitly.

"Gotcha, princess," Frank says as he catches her at the bottom, lifting her and spinning her around in a circle. Her laughter is music to our ears.

We chase each other around the playground, a tangle of limbs and unbridled joy. At one point, Frank grabs me by the waist, pulling me into an impromptu dance right there on the grass. We're goofballs, probably embarrassing our kids, but it doesn't matter—not when we're wrapped up in this bubble of happiness.

"Mommy, you're it!" James declares, tagging me on the shoulder before sprinting away with all the speed his eight-year-old legs can muster.

"Am not!" I shout back playfully, taking off after him while Frank chases Lily, who shrieks with glee.

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