Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 70

“Well, my babysitter’s across the street, and the kids are used to having their own rooms.”

“I’m over here half the fucking time anyway.  What do you say?”

The part inside me that had learned—whether from television or friends or my mother or society in general—that you didn’t show your heart, that you hid your true feelings like poker cards until you could read the other player wanted to ask Justin if I could give it some thought.  My heart, though, overruled, because I loved this man…had fucking loved him for a very long time.

But it also scared me.  What we had at the moment seemed to work.  Would living together ruin us?

“I want to.  But I think we should talk to the kids first, make sure they’re okay with it.”

“Naturally.”  After taking a gulp of his coffee, he said, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No.  I want to.”  Taking a hesitant puff on my cigarette and fighting the urge to cough again, I said, “Why haven’t I ever given you a key?”

“It’s not like I ever gave you one, so I guess we’re even.”  Leaning against the back door, Justin eyed the mug in his hands as if contemplating the depth of the universe.  “Do you think the kids’ dads will have a problem with it?”

“Kent probably won’t.”  Of course, remembering our last conversation, I could never be sure.  “I don’t know about Mike.”

“Mike’s Mr. Macho, right?  Devon’s dad?”

“Yeah.  But he’ll get over it.”

“All right.  Then we talk to the kids and see what they say.  And don’t stress about the bills.  It should be easier with two of us tackling things.  So no more worrying.”

“I’m not worrying.”  I took another sip of my coffee.  “Not about that anyway.”

“What about, then?”

Gazing at the cigarette between my two fingers, I stared as the paper slowly burned down toward the filter, creating an orange ring around the end of the cigarette.  I almost had to force my eyes to shift to him.  “Not to be a killjoy, but if you move in, I figure that means you’re committed.”

He didn’t miss a beat.  “Yeah, I oughta be.”  While I refrained from rolling my eyes, I almost imperceptibly shook my head, because he knew what I meant—and his next words confirmed it.  “I know.  I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.”

“Okay then.”  I allowed my heart for just a moment to revel in what could have been Justin’s biggest expression of love.

He stroked my cheek with the back of his finger.  “When I’m wasting my time fucking other women while wishing they were you, I figure it’s time.”

Oh, God.  That was probably the biggest admission I’d ever get out of this man, and I was going to be grateful for it.  Snubbing out my cigarette in the little plastic ashtray, I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  As he pulled me close, I muttered, “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“Yeah.  I know.”  When I started coughing again, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I think I might be coming down with something.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.  You were all sweaty last night and being dragged through the cold with just a jacket on isn’t the best idea.”

I kept my head pressed against his chest.  “Thanks for that, by the way.  I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“No shit?”

I appreciated the levity, so I played along, slapping him on the butt.  While I got ready for work that morning, I realized I probably was getting sick—but, mentally, I was beginning to feel better than I had in a long while.

* * *

By the time I got home, I knew for certain that I was sick.  I’d spent most of my day coughing and it was getting harder to breathe.  I wasn’t the only one sick, though.  When Mike dropped Devon off, he said, “He’s not feeling so hot.  He’s been throwing up.”

I placed my open palm on Devon’s forehead.  “How much candy did he eat?”

The man didn’t even have the decency to try to appear ashamed.  Fucking idiot.  “All of it.”

“I wonder why he’s not feeling well.”

After Mike headed out the door, I took Devon’s temperature to confirm he didn’t have a fever, meaning it was likely due to all the sugar he’d consumed throughout the day.  I had him take a bath while I unpacked his bag and put some soup on the stove.

Then my parents arrived with Sarah.  My mother said, “She was an exemplary young lady.”

Sarah actually smiled as she took her things to her bedroom.  Then my dad said, “That’s the old Sarah.”

“I just wanted to warn you guys I think I’m getting sick.”

My mother all but scowled.  “Then I won’t hug you.”

Dad nodded.  “We need to get home before dark anyway.”

Later, the kids and I sat at the kitchen table with soup and crackers.  The last thing I wanted to do was eat, especially soup after throwing it up last night, but I needed something hot.  And my son needed something bland and unsugary.

“So tell me about your weekend, guys.”

Devon’s eyes lit up.  “Dad took me trick-or-treating and then we stayed up late.  He let me watch monster movies.”

“Anything scary?”

“Not really.”

“Good.  When did you eat all your candy?”

“I ate some of it last night.  I woke up with a stomachache.”

“When did you throw up?”

“Today.”

“Did you eat more candy today?”

“Yeah.”  He ate another spoonful of soup.  Goddamn Mike.  It was like he wanted Devon to be his buddy rather than his son.  “You’re better than dad is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dad doesn’t brush my bangs back when I’m laying there sick like you do.”

As much as I would have loved excoriating Mike, especially when the man deserved it, I’d have to keep that shit to myself.  “He loves you, Devon.”

“I know.  But I’d rather be sick with you.”

“What about you, Sarah?  How was your time with grandma and grandpa?”

“It was awesome.  They let me hand out all the candy when kids came to