Page 53 of Kevlar
“Mom! Dad said the ramp’s ready!” Lorne skidded into the kitchen wearing pajama shorts, a helmet, and mismatched socks. He spotted the women and froze, then went pink. “Uh…hey.”
Stella grinned. “Look at you, ready to break every bone in your body at eight in the morning.”
He shook his head with confidence that came from only getting scraped hands and knees so far. “It’s only dangerous if you fall wrong.”
“And if you don’t listen to your father,” Lucas’s voice rumbled behind us.
I turned and shot him an accusing glare, but it melted when I saw Maisie cradled in his arms, her cheek resting against his broad chest.
She mumbled, “Daddy, Lorne say he gonna fwy.”
Lucas shot Lorne a look. “You will not be flying off that ramp, kid.”
Our son’s shoulders slumped. “Fine.”
“Don’t make me bubble-wrap you,” I muttered.
“I won’t get hurt, Mommy.” Lorne flashed me a grin that was almost identical to his father’s. “Daddy said I couldn’t.”
I knew Lucas couldn’t boss our kids into never getting hurt, but I loved how much they believed in him.
