Page 68 of Interpreter

I shake my head, watching as Tim flips off the guy in the backward baseball hat. “Fuck you, Theo.”

“Felipe! My man! Come out back; let me show you where the cool kids hang.”

I can feel the excitement radiating off Pe as Theo approaches, only to turn back and add, “Stay here, Jameson. I hate having to hurt your feelings every day. It makes Breck cry.”

Jameson, as Theo called him, gets up anyway. “It’s good to see you again, Felipe.” Cade tips his chin. “Marcus.” And then he claps Tim on the back and greets me with a warm smile. “Milah.”

I like him. I know Felipe has already claimed Theo, and that’s fine. They fit with each other. But the big guy with those mint green eyes seems really nice. But then he shoves Theo into the wall when walking by, so maybe he isn’t all that nice?

“They are friends,” whispers Tim.

“No, we aren’t, Lambros. Stop filling Jameson’s head with pipe dreams. It’s not good for his self-esteem. Come on, boys, let me show you around.”

Pe practically giggles, and I find myself grinning at the craziness in this house. It’s kind of like me and Pe but on a much larger scale.

“So, you want to see out back?” Tim asks me once Pe and Marcus follow Theo and Cade down the hall.

I nod, but then remember he’s in yesterday’s clothes. “Do you want to change first?”

He pinches his shirt between his fingers. “Yeah, that’s probably best. Let me take you into the kitchen. Breck and Anniston will keep you from Theo.”

Completely not worried about the shenanigans around here, I follow his fine ass into the open chef’s kitchen. The dark-haired woman I saw briefly at the bar is chopping fruit and handing it to little Aspen who is shoveling as much in as her little fists will let her. Breck is her name.

“Don’t feed all my fruit to that little cracker thief,” Tim says, a playful lilt to his voice as he leans down behind the island as if he’s planning a sneak attack. Aspen squeals and kicks her feet in the high-chair just before Tim darts around and snags one of her pieces of fruit before he makes munching sounds against her neck.

“She missed him last night,” Breck notes, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Oh,” I respond, feeling shitty that he missed out on time with the little girl he adores.

“Oh no,” Breck corrects herself. “He needs more friends than a toddler. We’re happy he met you.” She glances at Tim, still tickling the little girl. “You’ve been good for him. He’s happy. And that’s all any of us want.”

I watch the man that I have no business falling in love with tire the little girl out; then he announces that he’s going to shower and change. He asks one more time if I will be okay here with Breck.

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

With almost a shyness, he nods, grazing my lips with his thumb before leaving.

“He’s definitely the happiest I’ve ever seen him.” Breck’s words are spoken with such care. I can tell she really cares about Tim, and not in a creepy way.

“How long have you known him?” I’m genuinely curious. Tim said he’s been here for about four years. He mentions Breck, about how she makes his lunch and sent me the extra cherry tart. Is she his Pe?

“Almost three years,” she answers, moving on to wipe remnants of fruit off the wiggly toddler. “Where’s Mommy?” she asks the baby who starts grinning and looking around.

“Anniston is her mom, right?” I feel pretty sure this is what Tim said back at the fall festival, but I want to be sure.

Breck beams. “She is. But we don’t let Anniston or Theo have her very often.” She scoops the little girl out of the high chair. “We all adore her, especially Tim. Anniston has to literally steal her own baby from his arms most nights.”

I smile, thinking of Tim cradling this little girl in his massive biceps. “He really likes kids, huh?” I mean, he wanted to work at the school, and with his behavior around Aspen and Oliver, it seems like a logical conclusion.

“You know, we had no clue until Aspen was born. Tim doesn’t disclose much about his past, but when this little girl came along, he came alive. For the first time, I thought we were seeing the real Tim. But now… since you came along, we’ve only realized that we only saw a portion of the real Tim.”

Did her comment just make me feel like a superstar? Yes. Yes, it did.

“He’s not the sharer,” I note, and Breck nearly snorts.

“No, he isn’t. But he’s kind and honest, and I’ve found those traits in men rare.”

“Brecklyn,” says the big guy, Cade. The one I like. Well, I like them all, but I feel like I should pick one friend, you know? And this guy with the insane green eyes is the one I choose. “You need to get off your feet. Give me the princess.” As if he just realized I am standing here, he adds, “Is Tim upstairs?”

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