Page 20 of Wanting a Family Man

“Oh. Wow. How did you get into that?”

“Honestly? I had a terrible crush on a boy who likes boats.” She chinned toward the stairs into the basement, meaning Logan, Cloe presumed. “Plus, my grandfather did it before me and we lived with him so—” She cut herself off and drew a sharp breath, blinking as if she’d been stabbed. “Fuck. Sorry. We just lost him a couple of weeks ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Cloe found herself clasping Sophie’s arm before she realized what she’d done. She quickly released her. “I get it. It catches you off guard, doesn’t it?” Her own grief was suddenly right here at the forefront, like a mask of pain that was trying to crush her face. She ran her fingertips under her eyes.

“Yeah. It sucks.” Sophie pressed the pad of her thumb to the inside corner of her eye and blew out a long breath. “What was I saying? Work. Right. I got swept into it so I went to school to get my ticket. I like it. It pays well. Even so, it’s pretty quiet in the winter. Most people need a side hustle.”

“Hmm.” Cloe didn’t even have a main hustle. “Is there much available in Bella Bella?”

“Not really. You’re better off looking on Vancouver Island or the mainland. Prince Rupert, maybe. Sorry.” Sophie sounded like she meant it, but it was still a tough pill to swallow.

Biyen’s voice became louder as he came down the stairs with Emma.

“…and when people found those fossils, they thought they were dragons,” he was saying. “That’s why there are so many cultures with myths about dragons.”

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. Can I play with her on her mat?”

“Sure. Why don’t you get her sippy cup and see if she wants a drink? It’s by the sink.”

“Okay.” Biyen walked into the kitchen and said, “Storm had a huge blowout. Auntie Em said it was a good thing I was there to help because Storm was trying to sit up and roll off the change table. It was a real mud wrestling competition.”

“His words, not mine,” Emma called with amusement.

“Way to get in there, champ. Don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty.” Sophie started to hand him the sippy cup. “Wait. Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do you need something to drink, too?”

“Can I have a Popsicle?” he asked hopefully.

“No.”

“Worth a try.” He shrugged and took the cup to the mat where Emma was surrounding Storm with soft toys.

“He’s hilarious,” Cloe said, bemused by the boy.

“I know. I’d love to take credit, but he picks up the wildest things. I mean, mud wrestling? I have no idea where he heard that.”

“Logan?” Emma suggested as she walked into the kitchen. She looked around, then picked up the glass of wine she’d left on the kitchen table. “You”—she pointed at Sophie—“have some tea to spill.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t want to label it,” Sophie said belligerently and glanced toward the living room where Biyen was talking to Storm. “The only thing you need to know is that when Logan comes to do his nights with Storm, we’ll all come.”

“Fair dinkum?” Emma paused in opening the refrigerator.

“No. But if you wanted to go away with Reid to see his mom, it might be fun for us to play house here. That’s what constitutes a romantic getaway in my life,” Sophie told Cloe in a wry aside. “Babysitting and using someone else’s dishes. Be still my heart. We’re also happy to take Storm overnight at my place, if you want,” she added to Emma.

“Mmm.” Emma was stacking vegetables from the fridge onto the island. “I’d rather keep her in her own bed. She was a nightmare when we took her to Vancouver. It took days for her to settle back into her routine.”

“Offer’s open anytime.” Sophie shrugged it off.

Sophie seemed to know where everything was in this kitchen. She took out a colander to wash the lettuce while Emma found a carrot peeler.

“I can do that,” Cloe offered.

“Thanks. Two should do.” Emma handed it over with a couple of carrots.

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