Page 82 of Lost and Found

He shrugged. “It gives you character.”

“Or shows you what you don’t want to do when you’re in their shoes.”

He chuckled as though that had never occurred to him and squeezed her hand. Just for a second, as if to reassure himself, or maybe find comfort. “My folks made a great case for staying single and not having kids. You, however, are offering an amazing example of a healthy relationship with your son.”

Her heart swelled. “I always thought my life would look something like my parents’. Happy marriage. A couple of kids. My mom and dad are each other’s biggest cheerleaders and for Caitie and me, too.”

Matt spotted the ice cream parlor. “There it is!”

They stopped in front of the shop. The sweet smell of homemade waffle cones wafted into the early night.

“I bet you’ll have that,” Wes said, turning to Matt as he waited impatiently. “We’re coming.”

“Do you like cake cones or waffle cones?” Matt asked.

Wes smirked. “Is that even a question? Waffle all the way.”

“Team waffle!”

“I disagree,” Bailey chuckled.

Wes looked aghast as he held the door open. “They’re way better. And they make them here. Team waffle cone.”

“They’re way better, Mom. ’Specially when they make them here.”

“Two against one. Waffle cones are the clear winner.”

The lines moved quickly. She ordered blueberry cheesecake ice cream on a cake cone. Wes chose biscotti butter on a waffle. Matt peered indecisively at the flavors before settling on a scoop of chocolate cookie dough and vanilla cake batter on a waffle cone. Wes paid, and with a handful of napkins, she followed them outside to a brick courtyard.

She and Wes sat on a long bench across from wrought iron tables. Tall trees leaned their leafy branches protectively overhead, blocking the soft summer evening that had turned from a deep rosy orange to a gauzy purple. Matt took one look at the bench and beelined to another kid, a cone in hand, a cicada perched on her knee.

Wes licked a drip of melting ice cream. “I thought Matt was a little shy.”

“Not from kids, and not once he’s internally given a green light.”

“He greenlit me, huh?”

She twirled her cone to keep the scoops even. “He did. I think asking for the purple Popsicle was a solid first step in building trust. Asking about Minecraft was another good one.”

“I was this close to asking for red.”

“Glad you didn’t. That could’ve been a complete disaster.”

Wes chuckled.

They finished their cones. Bailey brought Matt inside to wash his hands and wipe off the ice cream on his cheeks and chin. When they returned from the bathroom, Wes was talking to another man and a woman.

He’d positioned himself to hold the conversation, watch who walked into the ice cream parlor, and watch who came out of the bathroom hall. He smiled when he saw them. A deep longing to move closer to his side washed over her.

That kept happening. It was more than a physical reaction—and God, he did it for her. Rugged and strong. Emerald eyes that missed nothing. She craved him. His nearness. His thoughts. The way he watched out for her and Matt. The way he touched her.

Matt hung back, unsure who the man with Wes was. “Who’s that?”

Wes gestured them over.

Matt reached for her hand.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Let’s find out. I’m sure if they’re Wes’s friends, they’re super nice.”