Page 7 of Cabin Fever With My First Flame

Bailey stands up and straightens the sofa cushions. “I can help in the kitchen if you need me to.”

Before I can answer, Micah drops the set of lights he’s untangling, and his eyes become haunted as they meet Bailey’s. “Aren’t we going to start decorating?”

Bailey immediately realizes her mistake and doesn’t hesitate. “Absolutely, Micah. I’d love nothing more. Why don’t we get started?”

Micah smiles and hands Bailey and Ella each a set of lights. They spend the next hour working together to untangle andhang them while I get dinner prepared. The other children have set out figurines, wreaths, and garlands all over the living room and foyer. My inner clean freak is having a meltdown at the mess, especially since it looks like a bomb detonated in the middle of the room. It’s only the smiles and laughter from the kids that keep the “tidy monster” from emerging.

“Dinner’s ready!” I shout over the loud Christmas music Bailey has blaring through the speakers. We’re fortunate that there’s anything to eat at all after I almost burned the beef after getting lost in the way Bailey’s hips swayed to the music. It was only Micah’s goofy grin when he caught me staring that stopped me from ogling Bailey any further. Thankfully, he’s the only one who noticed, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.

Ava jumps up and down, bursting with excitement. “Yay for tacos!” she yells as she barrels into my legs and latches on like a leech. “Thank you, Finn! I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!”

I pick her up and point to the fixings. “Well, all I have is cow. Do you want a hard shell or a soft one?”

Ava pinches her chin, and her tongue pokes out of the side of her mouth as she thinks long and hard about the life-altering decision. “Can I have one of each?”

I grab a paper plate and make her two tacos, but I’m not entirely sure that both will fit in her tiny tummy. After all six kids load up their plates, it’s Bailey’s turn. She makes only two tacos for herself, but I know that she can put away three, if not four. At least, she used to.

“There’s plenty to go around. I’m used to preparing meals for an army,” I tease. “I usually have to feed ten or more guys at one time when it’s my turn to cook at the station.”

Bailey smiles hesitantly at me. “Ava might manage to eat one taco before she’s full. If she finishes both, I’ll be amazed. It’s not out of the realm of possibility considering how much she’s beenrunning around, but I’m saving room to eat her leftovers so that nothing goes to waste.”

“It’s just a taco, Bailey. If it ends up in the trash, it’s no big deal. Fix what you want,” I tell her.

She shakes her head and whispers, “Daniel wouldn’t let the family leave the table until every morsel was cleared. If it was served, it was eaten—end of story. We could always go back for seconds if we wanted, but if we put it on our plate, we had to eat it. He always spouted the phrase, ‘If you dish it, you eat it.’”

I growl in frustration and step into Bailey’s personal space, just shy of our bodies touching. I whisper back, “Bailey, you’re not with Daniel anymore. It’s time for you to start living again and doing what’s best for you and the girls.”

She takes a step around me and heads toward the dining room. Just before she turns the corner, she stops and faces me. “I promise I’m trying my best to pick up the pieces of my life and move on, Finn, but it’s really none of your concern. I’m a big girl, and like you, I’ve learned from my mistakes. I, too, never plan on making the same one twice.”

Chapter five

Bailey

I’m startled awake bya kick in the head, and I mean that in the literal sense. Ava has somehow managed to do a one-eighty in the bed we’re sharing, and her little feet have ended up in my face. Once her little toes start tickling my neck, all bets are off, and any chance of getting back to sleep has gone out the window.

I roll out of bed and stare down at my sleeping angel. “At least one of us got some sleep.”

I shuffle downstairs into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee brewing. The house is dark except for a light over the oven, and not a creature is stirring—not even a mouse. I take a moment to enjoy the peace and listen as the wind whips in a frenzy outside.

As I rummage around in the kitchen, I end up making more noise trying to be quiet than I would if I had been banging around. I find the coffee, filters, and purified water with ease, but the contraption in front of me is besting me in every way. I end up talking to myself as I mash 27 buttons, attempting to turn on the coffee pot. “What happened to a good, old-fashioned Mr. Coffee? You just pop in a filter and a few scoops of coffee, then press one button! Voila! Coffee!”

“It helps if you plug it in,” says a voice that cracks at the end.

I spin around and clutch my heart, wondering why anyone else would be up at this hour. The clock on the stove taunts me with a big 5:03 in neon green lighting. “Micah, you scared the dookie out of me!”

The teenager, wearing sleep shorts and a band tee, throws his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He points toward the sofa, “I was just sleeping over there and couldn’t help but overhear you trying to beat the coffee pot into submission. I thought I could help.”

I chuckle. “It’s McNamara again, but you can call me Bailey. I apologize if I woke you. It should have been me sleeping on the couch in the first place.”

Micah smiles. “It’s not a big deal. The sofa is super comfortable.” He plugs in the brewer and shows me which buttons to press. I guess when it has power, it’s actually user-friendly. Who knew?

Instead of going back to sleep, Micah sits on a stool on the other side of the kitchen island. The kitchen is part of a spaciousopen floor plan that connects with the living room, kitchen, and informal dining area. There’s a formal room area around the corner and to our right, behind a set of French doors, but I prefer the open space. “Micah, aren’t you going back to sleep?”

He shrugs. “There’s really no point. Finn will be up in less than an hour to do his morning workout in the basement. The clanging of weights is what I use for an alarm clock, and he’ll expect me to join him.” Micah lowers his gaze. “Is it okay if I have coffee with you?”

I pull out two mugs from the cabinet above the coffee pot. I set one down in front of him while we wait for the brew cycle to finish. “I’d love some company. Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if it makes you feel uneasy.”

“I’m an open book. Ask away,” he replies.

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