“You are, bud. Hey, you be good for Sayer and remember if you go outside that you—”

Hyde cut him off before he could finish the warning. “Put on my gloves and my hat. I will.”

Good Lord, they were so cute together. It had only been a few weeks and they were already so in sync. They made it hard to breathe. They made it impossible not to be in love.

“He’ll keep himself entertained, for the most part, just play with him and hang out with him. He has a habit of pulling his gloves off and throwing them wherever they land. If you take him outside to play, keep that in mind.”

I nodded and looked down as Hyde pulled on the hand he was still holding on to. “Let’s make pancakes, Sayer.”

I agreed and looked back up at Zeb, who was watching us with a look that was caught somewhere between eternal heartbreak and true love. It sucked every thought from my head and killed whatever I had been about to say to him.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Zeb.” Hyde let go of my hand and ran at his dad. Zeb bent and caught the little boy seconds before he collided with his knees. He lifted him up and put a smacking kiss on his cheek.

“Your beard tickles.”

It sure did. I flushed hot at the wayward thought. Hyde leaned in close to Zeb and whispered in the loud way all kids did, which meant I could hear every word he said.

“You’re coming back for me later, right, Zeb?”

I inhaled so sharply it hurt. I saw Zeb’s eyes flick over to mine before he shifted Hyde in front of him so that they were gleaming green eyes to gleaming green eyes. “I will always come back for you, Hyde.”

The little boy watched him for a solid minute before giving him a far too serious nod and wiggling to be put down.

Zeb and I stared at each other and everything I wanted to say to him, everything I knew I should give him, lay there heavy and immovable between us. I wanted to do what Hyde did and run at him and trust him to catch me.

“Bye, Zeb. Have a good day at work.”

He grunted a little. “Thanks, Say. I’ll see you guys in a few.”

I put my hand on Hyde’s thin little shoulder and we both watched Zeb leave with longing in our eyes. Once the front door was shut, I nudged Hyde with my hip and inclined my head toward the kitchen.

“I think it’s safe to go in now if you want to try for round two.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda hungry.” I turned to guide him into the still slightly scorched–smelling kitchen and looked over my shoulder at him when he started giggling uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?”

He put his hands on his tummy and tilted his dark head back and laughed so hard I could see all his missing teeth.

I pouted at him and playfully crossed my arms over my chest. “Come on, Hyde. Share the joke.”

He kept giggling and pointed to my backside. “You made a big mess.” I sure had, and watching his father walk out the door without being able to touch him, without being able to kiss him or hold him close, reminded me of that fact like a smack in my face.

Obviously I couldn’t see my own butt, so I stopped in front of the stainless-steel refrigerator and turned around to see what had him in hysterics. On each back pocket was a perfect handprint, obviously left over from my first attempt at the pancakes. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at my own level of disaster.

“I did make a big mess. I seem to do that a lot.” I helped Hyde climb up into one of the stools that sat at the island. I found a clean bowl and spoon and put both in front of him while I measured out more mix and dug the milk back out of the fridge.

“Zeb says making a mess is okay as long as you also clean it up.” It sounded like Zeb had taken to fatherhood like a duck to water.

“Your dad is full of good advice.”

A little furrow worked between his tiny dark eyebrows as I added the liquid to the mix in the bowl and told him to go ahead and stir. I thought he was concentrating on the task at hand but when he spoke he surprised me.

“Everyone calls him my dad.”

I propped my elbows on the countertop and put my chin in my hand. “He is your dad. I’m not sure what else we would call him.”

He looked up at me and sucked his bottom lip in and then let it go with a pop. “He was my friend before he was my dad.”

“You’re right. He was and he’s still your friend even though he is also your dad.”

“Sometimes I want to call him Dad.”

I sucked in a breath through my teeth. I wasn’t sure I was the person he should be having this conversation with. “Try and get as many of the lumps out as you can.” I pointed to one big blob of batter in the bowl and walked over so that I could lean on the counter next to him. “Have you mentioned to Zeb that you might want to call him Dad?”

He shook his head and I heard his feet thumping under the counter as he kicked them up and down.

“No. What if he doesn’t like it?”

I reached out and put a finger under his chin and turned his face up so that he was looking at me. “Hyde, do you think Zeb is honest with you?”

The little boy considered me thoughtfully for a second and I tried not to cringe as he let go of the spoon and it slipped all the way into the bowl and was sucked up by the gooey batter.

“Yeah. Zeb doesn’t lie.”

“So if you tell him that you want to call him Dad, then you know he’ll tell you how he really feels about it. I bet you a hundred bucks it makes him really happy and that he might even cry.” It was a hedged bet. I knew I was going to win the bet and lose the money because there was no way that Zeb wouldn’t at least tear up when Hyde asked that question. A hundred dollars would buy the little man a lot of pizza and make the emotional moment between father and son even more special.

I wiggled my eyebrows up and down, which made Hyde laugh. “Zeb won’t cry.” He sounded so sure of the fact. The adorable little boy had no clue just how much of an effect he had on his big, bearded father.

I stuck out a hand. “A hundred bucks says he does.”

Hyde put his hand in mine and screwed up his face in concentration. “I don’t have a hundred bucks, though. I only have ten quarters.”

Could the kid be any more precious? The answer to that was a resounding “hell no.” “You don’t have to give me your quarters. If you win and Zeb doesn’t cry when you ask him, all you have to give me is your best hug. Deal?”