Page 98 of Sighs By the Sea

“Yes, yes.” Maggie waves a hand at him. “Adjust the rearview unless you wanna see me make out with my stud.”

“I would really prefer that you didn’t,” Tommy says with a groan. But she’s already tilting her head up to me. I cup her cheek and press my lips to hers. The kiss that follows is so tender and full of affection that I feel like I’m suddenly floating, tethered to the world only by her lips.

She pulls away and rests her forehead against mine. “I love you, Gray.”

“Hmm,” I growl playfully. She pinches my side, and I smile, wincing a bit at the throbbing in my face. “Love you too, Maggie.”

Maggie

At my computer desk, I’m fully immersed in the game, fingers flying over the keyboard as I battle virtual enemies, still in my pajamas. The dim glow from the screen casts shadows across my face, highlighting the concentration etched into my brow. The room hums with the sound of clicking keys and the quiet whirr of the computer. Suddenly, Grayson’s voice echoes from the living room.

“Maggie, come and get it.” I roll my eyes, quickly pausing the game mid-battle, and hurry out.

I find Grayson in the kitchen, the savory aroma of roasted vegetables mingling with something else delicious. His back is to me as he finishes plating dinner, the clatter of dishes filling the small space. I sneak up behind him, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before taking a seat. My eyes fall on the heaping pile of vegetables on my plate, and I can’t help but make a face, my lips curling in mock disgust.

George seems to be on the same wavelength. “Dad,” he whines, his voice stretching the word out, his fork hovering over a mound of broccoli.

“Not a word, Georgie. You’ll eat every piece of greenery on that plate.” Grayson’s tone is firm, with just the right amount of playful authority, as he sits down opposite us.

“Maggie hates them too,” George mumbles, glancing at me with a conspiratorial look.

Catching George’s eye, I pretend to gag, crossing my eyes dramatically. We both stifle giggles behind our hands.

“No movies or games for either of you if you don’t,” Grayson warns, narrowing his eyes playfully. George and I gasp in exaggerated horror. “I mean it.” His words are stern, but there’s a twinkle in his eye as George reluctantly picks up his fork, stabbing a piece of broccoli and glaring at it like it’s one of my virtual enemies.

Leaning closer to George, I whisper mischievously, “If you eat all the veggies, I have a secret stash of sour candy at my desk.” The promise of sweets hangs in the air like a delicious secret.

George’s face lights up with mischief, and he shoves a giant bite into his mouth, chewing with determination.

I giggle, the sound bubbling up like fizzy soda, but Grayson remains resolute, though there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “You know I hate when you two gang up on me like that.”

With a mouth full of broccoli, I lean over and kiss his cheek, the scratch of his evening stubble soft against my lips. George groans, staring at his plate, but I know he’s only half-jealous. He loves having my attention, which I gladly give him between work and bedtime. George has me wrapped around his little finger.

Our little family is perfect.

The meal passes with light-hearted banter, forks clinking against plates and laughter bouncing off the walls. We all dutifully finish our vegetables, the piles shrinking bite by bite. After dinner, Grayson takes George for his bath, leaving me to clean up. I move efficiently around the kitchen, the soft sound of running water and the clink of dishes creating a soothing rhythm. My mind is content with the simple pleasure of domestic routine.

Once the kitchen is tidy and the scent of dish soap lingers in the air, I join Grayson and George in the living room for story time. We’ve settled into a comfortable routine over the last few months. Each night, we take turns reading pages from George’s favorite books, the cozy glow of the lamp casting warm light on the pages.

When it’s time for bed, George hesitates, fiddling with the spine of his book. “Um, Maggie? Can you sleep with me tonight?”

“Why, baby? Are you scared?” I’ve picked up the habit of calling him ‘baby’ from Henrietta, and I secretly love it.

George stares down at his book, his small fingers tracing the edges. “Sometimes, your wrestling sounds wake me up.” I burst into laughter at his comment, the sound filling the room, but Grayson looks horrified, his face a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Um, no, Georgie. I can’t fit in your bed with you, but I swear you won’t hear a peep tonight. Okay?” He smiles and jumps off the couch, his energy infectious. He pecks each of us on the cheek, then wraps his arms around me in a hard squeeze. My eyes close as I savor the moment. His hugs are always treasured, no matter how often I get them.

“Love you, Maggie,” he says, and though he’s said it before, it still melts me into a puddle.

“Love you too, baby.” He skips away, his book in hand, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.

After ensuring George is fast asleep, Grayson and I settle on the couch together, the cushions soft beneath us. I turn on the gaming console and hand Grayson the controller. It’s taken a lot of coaxing, but he’s finally started playing with me and is getting pretty good. The game is too violent to play with George around, but we both enjoy unwinding with a few rounds after a long day.

After the first session ends, Grayson turns off the game.

“I have something for you,” he says, his voice teasing. I raise a brow, curiosity piqued, but as I start to scoot closer, he holds up a hand, laughing. “I have something real for you.”

“Oh. Okay,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ears, the soft strands slipping between my fingers. He suddenly seems fidgety, his movements restless, and I have an idea of what’s about to happen. Excitement buzzes under my skin. We’ve talked about this, of course. You don’t live together, play family, without thinking about making it official.

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