Page 13 of Headed for Home

Drake pauses, mulling over the answer. “Five? Is that right?”

Charlie is nodding. “Yes! Good job.”

“Thanks. That was a tough one.” He wipes fake sweat off the brim of his hat.

“Kenzie is five too. We’re twins. That means we were born at the same time. But guess what? I’m older. Mommy told me.”

“Just by a few minutes,” I interject.

“Whatever that means.” He shrugs his skinny shoulders.

“All that matters is you’re the big brother. They’re the best.”

Charlie hops on the balls of his feet. “Are you a big brother too?”

“Sure am.” Pride shines in his response.

“Ohhhh, you got tattoos,” my son blurts.

Drake straightens his arms for inspection. “Quite a few.”

“Sooo many colors. Mommy, look!” Charlie tugs on my shirt. “He’s got a baseball right there. You looooove baseball.”

“Is that so?” Humor struts in Drake’s gaze.

“I’ve watched a game or two,” I deflect.

My kiddo scoffs. “She cheers super duper loud for the Mustangs. That’s her most favorite team. I think it’s ’cause she loves horses.”

“Interesting,” Drake murmurs.

I cringe at the sky, searching for a cloud or an escape from this conversation. “Beautiful day.”

As if suddenly recalling an urgent issue, Charlie goes still and widens his eyes. “I’ve gotta go pet my bunny.”

He spins on his heel and dashes off without further explanation. I smile at his retreating form. Meanwhile, a gritty chuckle tumbles from the man beside me.

Drake returns to his full height, pinning me with that addictive stare. “The Mustangs, huh?”

I shrug but can’t escape his notice. “They’re our home team.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Hush,” I mutter.

“Well, well. You watched me play.” His giddy tone is more appropriate for winning the lottery.

“You just happened to be on the Mustangs.”

“Do you have my jersey?”

“No!” I wince at my sharp voice and how it sounds. “I mean, not a chance. I’m more of a Peterson fan.”

Drake hoots. “Damn, woman. That’s a straight shot to the junk.”

“You asked.”

“For the truth,” he purrs.

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