Page 86 of Sweet Escape
“Hopefully the kitchen,” Olivia says, dusting off her jeans. “I’m starving.”
“Hungry, Emmy Lou?”
Emmy nods. “Uh-huh.”
I grab Emmy by the waist and hold her up in the air, making airplane noises all the way down the hallway until I can set herdown at the kitchen island. She giggles the entire way, and Olivia trails close behind. The scene is so domestic that it stops me in my tracks, my mind cooking up a million scenarios I have no business imagining.
“You okay?” Liv asks, her hand resting on my lower back.
I clear my throat and shake myself out of my trance. “Yeah. Um. What did y’all want to eat?”
“Cheerios!” Emmy bellows, surprising no one.
Olivia laughs and saunters over to the counter, one hand supporting her lower back as she plucks the box of cereal off the shelf. She dumps a pile of dry Cheerios onto Emmy’s tray just the way she likes it, then puts it right back in its place.
“What about you two?” I ask, resting my hand over her belly. “Any cravings?”
She grimaces. “Um. Nope. Not really.”
Liar.
“What is it, Liv?”
“You’re gonna judge me.”
“Never.”
She considers for a moment, pursing her lips. “Popcorn with honey and M&M’s.”
“I should’ve guessed it would be something with a metric fuckton of sugar.”
She crosses her arms over her chest defensively, leveling me with a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
My beard brushes against her cheek as I lean in close and whisper, “Just that you’ve got a sweet tooth.”
“Is that a problem?” she murmurs, sassy as ever.
“No. Turns out I have a thing for cupcakes.” I tug her earlobe between my teeth, and she sucks in a sharp breath, my name coming out on a ragged exhale. “Mmmm. Well, now there’s a problem.”
I kiss her flushed cheek and step away, adjusting myself beneath my jeans. “Why don’t you go sit with Emmy, and I’ll make your ridiculous snack.”
The sound of Cheerios hitting the floor fills the silence as I make my way around the kitchen, gathering ingredients. “How would you feel about getting a dog?”
“What made you bring that up?”
“Just something I’ve been considering.”
Olivia heads into the pantry, returning with a broom and dustpan. “It’s your house. Do what you want.”
“That’s not how this works, Cupcake. This is your house now, too. We’ll have an extra kid to think about soon. As it stands, your vote counts for two.”
She dumps the casualties of Emmy’s enthusiastic eating habits and plucks her out of her high chair. “What do you think, Emmy Lou? Should we get a dog?”
I watch them converse in my periphery as I listen to the telltale sound of the popcorn in the microwave, but I’m not really catching anything they're saying. I’m too captivated by the way they interact, and I’m helpless against the inherent rightness I feel when I watch them.
“I guess we’re getting a dog,” Olivia says, breaking me out of my quiet contemplation. She spins Emmy in a circle, then plucks her phone from her back pocket, pressing play on an upbeat pop song. “I think this calls for a dance party!”
She twirls around the kitchen with my girl in her arms, one of Emmy’s legs on either side of her growing bump. Emmy giggles, smiling brighter than ever.
