Page 87 of Buckin' Around

Be back soon,

Riles.

It’s the simplest thing in the world. A note. The first one anyone has ever bothered to leave me. The first time I’ve had somebody to come home to that wasn’t trying to get in my pants or my bank account.

My throat closes over.

Nobody’s ever put this much effort into anything for me. Ever.

Headlights flash through the window.

I glance at my watch.

7:48

They’re home early.

I pad through the cottage, flicking on lights and opening windows to let in the breeze. In Ivy’s room, the crib is still in pieces.

I’ll get to that first thing tomorrow.

Hopefully my shoulder holds up.

“Spence?” Riley calls from the kitchen.

Ivy’s little babbles echo down the hallway, winding their way through this small little abode to find me.

“Here you go, kiddo, you get to work on that stuffy, and I’ll fix you some supper.”

When I reach the end of the hallway, Riles is fussing over Ivy. I lean on the doorway, folding my arms over my chest. This is not our reality.

Not really.

And lord above, what I wouldn’t do to change that.

“Hey,” I rasp. The emotion has risen to behind my nose and eyes.

Fuck, I’m a damn mess.

“Hey, Spence.” Riles crosses the floor, stopping in front of me. She leans on the adjacent wall and looks up at me. “We missed you.”

My jaw feathers.

I open my mouth to tell her that every minute I was away felt like an hour. That my rides were hell without her and Ives by my side. Tha?—

Riley rolls off the wall and heads for the refrigerator.

“Hungry?” Her eyes find mine over the refrigerator door.

We stand there, a kitchen appliance between us, locked in a silent stare. My shoulders sag as the last breath falters and disappears.

Riley’s lips part, her brows tilting as she leans into the door. As if it could vanish and I’d replace it...

Or maybe that’s me, wishful thinking this whole scenario.

“I—I . . . didn’t get the crib done . . .” Her words are breathy.

I swallow past the stone in my throat.