“Dean and Mary? They don’t want their own kids?”

“They can’t.”

“Oh,” he said quietly.

“Yeah . . .”

I watched him as he looked around the yard. It wasn’t much, and the garden wasn’t maintained like his was, but no one had the time for any of that. “What—?” He cleared his throat. “What happened to their parents?”

I sighed. “Another time, maybe?”

“Okay,” he answered. But his tone was sad.

“Blake?”

“Mmm?”

“We’re fine. We’re happy. Are you worried about something?”

He sniffed once, but his eyes never left Harry on the board. “What happens to them? I mean, if no one wants them?”

I tried to laugh. Tried to find a way to soothe his worries. “They become me.”

His eyes snapped to mine. And I saw it then—a side to Blake I doubted he shared with anyone. This sad, vulnerable boy who cared. Our eyes stayed locked and the seconds felt like an eternity. The thumping of my heart against my chest began to ache. But I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t fight it—what it was that was happening to me. To us. To my entire world.

“Blake . . .”

He blinked once, breaking the connection. Then his gaze moved to Harry again. “Dude,” he yelled, standing up and walking toward him. “You almost had it that time. That was awesome! Do it again.”

I’d watched and listened to Harry enough to know he was attempting a kick flip. He did it a few more times while Blake circled, one arm crossed over his chest and the other with his hand on his chin. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he took in Harry’s form. “Is it cool if I try to help you out a little?”

“Sure.” You couldn’t have wiped the smile off the boy’s face if you’d tried. The other kids stopped what they were doing and made their way over so they could watch. I joined them and stood next to Blake. He’d winked when he’d seen me coming. I wondered for a second what the hell he was doing there, hanging out with my broken family and me. But it was only a second before I decided that I just didn’t care.

“So I think if you move your left foot back a little and put your right foot on more of an angle, you’d be good.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he looked from Blake to me. I encouraged him with a nod of my head.

The cheers he got when he nailed the trick were so loud Dean came rushing out the front door. His body visibly relaxed when we told him what had happened. “Wash up,” was his response. “Dinner’s ready.”

I watched the kids run up the porch steps while we trailed behind. “That was really nice, Blake, you helping Harry like that.”

“It was nothing.”

“It meant something to him.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and brought me closer to him. “Did it mean something to you?”

“Yes.”

He kissed my temple, longer than what was necessary but shorter than what I wanted. “Then I guess it means something to me, too.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Blake

It took two minutes for me to devour my plateful of food. The others were still going, slowly chomping away while entertaining themselves with conversation.

“You can have seconds,” Chloe whispered up at me.

I looked down at her plate. Her food looked untouched. “It’s okay.”

The scraping of a chair got my attention. Dean leaned over, grabbed my plate, and proceeded to fill it with a little of everything from the smorgasbord on the table. Three different varieties of pasta, steak, chicken, salad, everything. “You’re a growing boy,” he boomed, setting the plate back down in front of me. “You need to eat.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. I was a little uncomfortable and out of my element. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal . . . and we never really sat down at a table like this.”

“Your parents don’t feed you?” Mary asked.

“Um . . .” The words caught in my throat. Looking around the table, I decided that my self-pity wasn’t valid, not in this situation.

“His parents are busy,” Chloe answered.

“You speak for me now?” I joked, looking down at her.

She smirked, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

Then Dean chimed in, “Get used to it, Hunter. That’s what girrrrlfriends do.”

She dropped the knife and fork on her plate, the sound of it almost as piercing as her frustrated grunt. “He’s not my—”

My phone rang, interrupting her. Will’s stupid rap ringtone. I fumbled for it in my pocket, trying to silence it. “Oh yeaaahhh!” Sammy yelled, hopping off his seat.

“Don’t drop that booty booty!” the other kids sang, their hands moving up and down above their heads.

“Oh no,” Chloe said through a laugh. “This is not good.”

The ringtone continued to play. Sammy was standing to the side of the table now . . . twerking. I started to laugh, but then the ringing stopped.

“Again,” Sammy whispered, his ass sticking out midtwerk. I chuckled as I searched everyone’s faces. The kids just smiled. Mary shook her head, giggling to herself. Dean nodded enthusiastically. “Do it.” It almost sounded like a dare.

Then I turned to Chloe. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, but she was smiling, too.