Chapter Nine #3
He nodded. “Okay. Longmire?”
Warmth flooded through her. Because he knew her so well. “Yes, please.”
He was already reaching for the remote.
* * *
Josh heard whispering. He opened his eyes to the glow of daylight slipping in around shut curtains—and Shane standing next to Dillon on the other side of the coffee table staring straight at him. Roger sat panting happily between the two boys.
“Your dad’s awake,” whispered Dillon. “Look. His eyes are open.”
“Dad,” Shane said softly. “Is it okay if we get our own cereal?”
Blinking, Josh glanced down at Riley—sound asleep, her head in his lap.
How had that happened? Last thing he remembered, she was leaning against him.
He’d loved that, the warmth of her body touching his, the scent of her hair, the feel of it so soft against his skin.
He’d been thinking he ought to pull away, get a little distance.
But he’d done no such thing. It had been around midnight then, hadn’t it? They’d been on season three, episode five of Longmire. Had they slept clear through to season four? He had no idea. But on the screen above the fireplace, Longmire played on. He raised the remote. The screen went dark.
“Ask him again,” whispered Dillon.
“Dad? Cereal? Dillon’s got Cheerios and…?” Shane looked to Dillon.
“Banana Nut Crunch and Crunchy Pecan,” Dillon elaborated with a hopeful smile. “Mom lets me get my cereal by myself.”
“Sure,” Josh replied softly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. It was stiff from sleeping sitting up. “But be quiet…”
“We will.”
“And you should probably let Roger out in back for a few minutes.”
“Okay, we will, Dad.” Shane turned to Dillon. “Let’s go…”
The boys turned as one and headed off through the dining room with Roger trotting along behind them. They whispered to each other as they went.
Josh stared down at the woman sleeping so peacefully in his lap. She was curled up on her side, one hand resting on his thigh.
Looking at her now, he didn’t know what to feel—tenderness, desire, still-unresolved anger that she’d turned him down? Hurt that she couldn’t get past losing TJ and give him a chance?
He could hear the boys trying to be quiet in the kitchen. That made him smile. What was it about five-year-olds? So curious. So determined—and somehow unable to keep quiet when they said they would.
One of them dropped what sounded like a spoon. It clattered to the floor, the noise muffled but recognizable. He almost laughed at the buzz of frantic whisper-shouting that followed.
“Shh!”
“I didn’t mean to! Sor-ry!”
He heard the clinking of dishware and the whoosh of air as the fridge was opened, then the muted click as the door shut…
“Josh?” asked Riley in a sleepy voice.
He looked down again, happiness filling him as her blue eyes met his. “Morning,” he said.
“Morning.” She sat up and covered a yawn.
It happened right then as she blinked at him sleepily, her hand over her mouth. The truth dawned. He wasn’t just falling.
He was there already. It was too late to save his poor heart.
She yawned again. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
He put a finger to his lips. “Hear that?”
Now she was smiling as she raked her fingers back through her sleep-mussed hair. “I believe there are children whispering in the kitchen. Let me guess. The boys are making breakfast…”
“They’re pouring milk over cereal. Does that count?”
“Hey.” She fake-punched his shoulder. “Cereal is breakfast, too.” A soft, sleepy sound escaped her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “How much of Longmire did I miss?”
“No idea. I fell asleep, too.” He could sit there on her sofa for the rest of the day, holding her close as they talked about nothing the least bit important.
But then she was pulling away, grabbing her phone from the coffee table, checking the time. “It’s almost nine.”
“No kidding.”
“Ready for some eggs and sausage?”
“You’re on.”
“All right, then.” She stood. “Follow me.”
They took their sweet time over breakfast. The boys finished their bowls of cereal and said yes to toast and sausage. Riley even scrambled a few eggs just for Roger. He wolfed the food down with gusto.
Josh could have stayed forever. Shane seemed to feel the same way.
But they didn’t live here, and Josh needed to remember that. He sent Shane upstairs to change out of his PJ’s and get his things together. Dillon went up with him.
When the boys came back down, Riley and Dillon followed Josh and Shane out to the crew cab.
“See you tomorrow!” Dillon called as Josh started the engine and eased away from the curb.
“’Bye!” shouted Shane good and loud because Josh kept the back windows safety-locked.
“Bye!” Dillon and Riley called out in unison.
Shane didn’t stop waving until they turned the corner and left Adams Street behind. “Dad?”
“Hmm?”
“When can Dillon come stay over at our house?”
“You just had a sleepover at his house and he’s coming over with Riley on Friday for my birthday, remember? Plus, you’ll be seeing him all week at daycare.” Josh glanced in the rearview.
Shane was deep in thought. “So can he sleep over on your birthday? I like it when he sleeps over.”
“Shane, it’s been three minutes since we left Dillon’s house.”
“But I can, right—have Dillon at my house for a sleepover?”
“Of course you can.”
“So can he stay Friday night?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, Dad…” With a heavy sigh, Shane leaned back in his booster seat and stared dreamily out the window.
They drove the rest of the way home in silence. Josh thought about Riley. Lately, she was all he thought about. She was in his head and in his heart.
He wanted more from her than she ever intended to give again. For a month now, he’d been telling himself he needed to accept her decision, that she’d made her choice and he wasn’t it.
But now he kept thinking of last night, of the two of them on her sofa, nice and cozy for hours and hours. Of waking up that morning with her right there, sound asleep on his lap.
He wanted that—the two of them, together in that perfect, beautiful everyday way. He wanted to spend his nights in the same bed with her and his days working hard to make a good life for her and their kids.
Yeah, she’d turned him down. She’d dealt a hard blow to both his heart and his pride. But his heart could take the pain.
As for pride, any fool would tell you that pride never kept anyone warm at night.