Page 174 of Where We Stay

“No ice cream for breakfast, baby girl,” Dean calls from the living room.

Aspen and I decided to make breakfast together this morning. I’ve stayed with Dean every night since we found our way back to each other—mostly here, although he comes to mine whenever Aspen sleeps at her grandparents’.

Somewhere during that first morning back together, between coffee and Dean asking if I was really staying, we also had the painfully responsible conversation about contraception. We’d both been tested, I’m on the pill, and we agreed we could stop using condoms.

Very mature of us.

What we’ve done with that information since? Significantly less so.

On the afternoons Courtney visits Aspen, I give them space. I haven’t seen much of her, although I can’t decide whether she’s avoiding me or I’m subconsciously avoiding her. Either way, I don’t want Courtney thinking I’m trying to take her place.

“Pen, you have to try lemon and sugar,” I tell her as I flip another pancake onto the plate. “It really is the best.”

“You and Daddy are the same,” Aspen says with a giggle.

Once the last pancake is done, we carry everything over to the table and call Dean in to join us.

“Smells good, my girls.” He leans down and kisses me before taking his seat.

Aspen gives us a cheeky grin from across the table.

I think she missed having me here. When I came back to Dean’s the day after I told him everything, she barreled into my arms before launching into a full explanation of the shell necklaces she’d helped Courtney make.

How quickly this has become normal should probably scare me.

It doesn’t.

I’ve never felt as content anywhere as I do sitting at this table with Dean and Aspen. For the first time in my life, I have people and a place I couldn’t imagine leaving.

“Daddy?” Aspen asks around another mouthful of pancake, dripping syrup down the front of her shirt.

Dean looks over at her. “Yes, baby girl?”

“Can we go to Nan and Gramps’ tonight?”

“No, Penny. I’m taking you and Blair on a surprise date.”

He raises his brows at me, and I turn toward Aspen with an exaggerated look of intrigue.

“Oh?”

“Will there be chocolate?” she asks Dean.

“Of course.” He smiles and gently tugs one of her pigtails.

“And what exactly are we supposed to wear on this surprise date?” I ask. “Because it’s unbelievably cold, and if you think I’m getting into any body of water that isn’t a bath, you’re dreaming, Ashford.”

Dean laughs into his pancakes. “Something warm. I promise there’ll be no swimming and plenty of hot chocolate.”

“Acceptable.”

“Glad I have your approval, Miss Morgan,” he says as he gets up to clear the table.

* * *

By late afternoon, Aspen and I are getting ready for our surprise date while Dean is out collecting what he mysteriously called “supplies.”

I have no idea what he has planned, but Aspen’s excitement is contagious.