Page 97 of Sweet Redemption

She’d tell me to shift my focus.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Five things I can see.

I see a bed I slept in.

Sheets we were wrapped in.

My wet dress on the floor.

My ripped panties and lace bra next to them.

Four things I can touch. I move to Hendrix’s dresser and run my hand along the wood, picking up a picture of him and Bodhi smiling at each other after a game. Then I move on to another one, this frame is heavier and looks like it was taken last Christmas with all the Sinclair siblings and spouses and kids. Annabelle and Declan sit in the middle of the group with Bodhi between them and a goofy-looking bulldog with a giant pink tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth and planted in front of Bodhi. It’s a great picture. I move to the chair where a hoodie lies discarded next to a stuffed dinosaur with a white Kings tee on. It’s soft and well-loved, and when I pick it up and close my eyes, I bury my nose in it and inhale.

Three things I can hear. I focus on Hendrix and Bodhi laughing downstairs, their conversation, and the sound of water running.

Two things I can smell. Burning sugar—guessing the pancakes aren’t turning out the best—and melting butter, I think.

And one thing I can taste. That’s an easy one. Coffee, mouthwatering coffee. The scent so strong I can taste it and smell it, and my God, I can’t wait to drink it.

By the time I get through everything, my brain has slowed down, and my body has calmed down. I can do this.

The hard part was coming here last night.

Now the rest should be easy . . . right?

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?

Hendrix

“Should we go get her, Daddy?” Bodhi asks as I scoop him up and buckle him into his booster seat.

I’ve definitely considered it, not that I’m telling him that. It’s not like she ran away, but I’m pretty sure my girl is hiding. The question is what’s got her spooked. “Nah, bud. She’ll be down soon. I think I heard the shower running.”

“Oh.” His little eyes get big. “Did she get dirty?”

I bite my tongue—because she most certainly did, but I’m not about to tell my kid that— and turn to grab the plates instead. At least, that was the plan before my wet dream walked in, in one of my old college tees and a smile. Her wet hair is thrown up on top of her head. Not an ounce of makeup on her gorgeous face. And if I’m not wrong, no fucking pants—again.

She’s fucking killing me.

“Good morning, princess,” I murmur as I pull her close and brush my lips over hers.

She goes with it, leaning in and melting in my arms for a second before she pushes back and looks behind me wide-eyed. “Hendrix . . . don’t.”

“Not a chance, princess. We’re not kids anymore, and I’m done hiding.” I kiss her forehead and smack her ass. “Now go sit, and I’ll grab your coffee.”

Bodhi squeals, thoroughly enjoying the idea that we had a sleepover. “And pancakes.”

“And pancakes,” I agree and pull out a chair for Serena. “My princess,” I tease her dramatically, holding out a hand. “I’d like you to meet Bodhi.” I run my hand over Bodhi’s hair and tickle his chin. “My son.”

She looks between him and me, clearly uncomfortable, but she pushes her shoulders back and lifts her hand for a high five. “Hi, Bodhi.”

My kid stares at her hand, confused. “Grandpa says you shake hands when you meet people.”

I hand Serena a cup of coffee and watch her squirm. “Well, your grandpa is a smart man.”

She takes his small hand in hers and shakes. “Nice to meet you.”