Page 37 of Here In Your Arms

I pick up my phone and confirm plans with the guys. I’m looking forward to time with them, and although it may be too early to think long term, it will be good to know if they get along with Claire since she’s such a staple in my life. He was never a fan of how much time I spent with her and tried to reduce it as much as he could. The guys respond with enthusiasm, making me hopeful and excited about tomorrow.

The next morning we’re up at a god-awful early hour. Nobody was meant to be up at 6 a.m., I’m sure of it. We finish getting ready and head to the car, Claire with an extra pep in her step. I grumble at her that I doubt our blood relation, but she just laughs. I’m not sure how she got the early bird genes, but she did. To console myself, we stop for coffee and I let Claire get whatever caffeine-free treat she wants. Kyle and Wes had the right idea to be early, much to my chagrin, because there are plenty of open spots at this hour.

Once I lock the doors, I look around and easily find Wes’ mop of red hair. He has it somewhat styled today, which is somewhat unusual from my experience so far. Although, to be fair, we’ve only been on one official date before. Kyle is standing next to him, his shaggy hair also styled to be shaggy chic instead of shaggy sloppy. He raises one hand as he sees me and waves with a grin on his face. Claire and I head right over.

“Good morning,” I tell them, still feeling subdued as I wake.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Kyle says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Frickin’ adorable. I could handle more of those.

I introduce everyone. “This is Claire, my niece. Claire, this is Kyle and Wes.”

“Hey squirt,” Wes greets her.

She glares at me. “Did you tell him about the nicknames?”

I hold my hands up in surrender. “No way, champ.”

Turning her squinty eyes on Wes, she adds, “Don’t call me squirt. Or champ. I’m not a child.”

Kyle barks a laugh while Wes looks somewhat caught between a rock and a hard place, unsure how to get out of this.

“True, you are definitely not a child, but you’re not like a grown up either so, let’s split the difference and I won’t call you squirt,” he finally offers.

“Or champ.”

“Deal.”

“Okay, I have a question,” she says, moving on from the issue more quickly than she would with me.

“Shoot,” Wes says.

“Are you the Dread Pirate Roberts?” she asks, pretending to whisper.

Wes grins widely and holds his finger up to his mouth. “Can’t tell anyone.”

“As you wish,” Claire replies, laughter bubbling out of her.

“How did I not pull that joke yet?” I ask Kyle.

He shrugs. “We’ll pretend you did. It’s us against a pre-teen; who’s gonna take her side?”

I nod in agreement as Claire sputters in outrage. Wes grins and leads Claire to the entrance of the outdoor market. It’s a straight line from end to end with vendors set up along the sides. There’s everything from fresh produce to handmade blankets. It’s almost overwhelming in choice.

“Let’s go up one side and come back on the other,” Kyle suggests.

“As you wish,” Wes replies with a wink, making Kyle smile and blush a little.

He’s so adorable. I reach out and take his hand as we walk slowly through the market. Wes is amazing with Claire, the two of them quickly becoming thick as thieves. They point out to various objects, giggling at their jokes and sticking close to each other. Wes has already purchased some fruit for her and a few homemade cookies that are almost the size of her face. Part of me wants to rein him in, but it occurs to me she doesn’t get a lot of attention like this from an adult guy, so I let them bond. If he wants to spoil her, I’m okay with that.

I stop at a jewelry stand, looking at the earrings on display, admiring the craftmanship that went into these. The price is higher than I can afford for a single pair right now, but I love the swirling colors of the teardrop shapes dangling from their hooks. Wanting a closer look, I reach my hand out, then hesitate.

“May I hold a pair?” I ask, not wanting to put my hands on things I don’t intend to buy without asking.

“Sure, not a problem,” the woman running the booth says with a smile.

I pick up the card that the hooks are threaded through and set my coffee down. One hand holds the earrings up while my other hand moves the teardrop shape back and forth in the sun to see how the light catches at each angle. It’s not quite iridescent, but it’s not matte either and the effect is mesmerizing. Someone bumps into me from behind and the earrings drop out of my hand and somehow my coffee flies off the table to the ground.

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