I turned my head his way to say something cocky or smartass, just to see him smile.

I didn’t get it out.

Because, early morning fuck in the shower done, my man felt like kissing me.

So I let him.

* * * * *

I stared at Merry and my kid leaning in to the counter on either side of Merry’s bar. Ethan was up on a stool on the outside; Merry was on his feet in the kitchen. Both were bent over their bowls, shoveling bright yellow, egg-cracker goo in their mouths.

And Merry was not gagging.

In fact, it appeared he liked it.

This fact made it clear that crap actually was dude food.

This was surprising enough.

The rest of what was happening shocked me silent.

“So, talk to your buds. Get their parents’ permission. Be ready at quarter to six. I’ll get you, swing ’round to pick them up, take you all for some grub, to the game, and drop them home after,” Merry stated.

“Cool,” Ethan grunted, shoving more egg goo in his mouth.

They were making a date.

Merry looked to me. “Before your shift, you wanna go to dinner with me and the boys?”

I was an afterthought.

Why did I think that was so fucking awesome?

“How ’bout I trade my own Merry time later for you havin’ a guys’ night tonight?” I suggested.

“Works for me,” Ethan said to his bowl.

Merry winked at me.

It worked for him too.

He turned away and recommenced eating.

“You on call this weekend?” Ethan asked his bowl.

“Nope,” Merry told his bowl.

“Waffle morning tomorrow?” Ethan asked.

I held my breath.

Merry’s gaze slid to me.

I nodded once.

His attention went back to his bowl before he answered, “Yup.”

“Cool,” Ethan grunted.

I watched and listened, my eyes feeling funny. They were stinging, but not because they were dry.

Merry straightened from the counter. “You finish that, bud. We gotta hit the road, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ethan replied, scooping the last bite out of his bowl.

Merry headed my way.

I started to pull my shit together.

Since I was standing at his sink but was busy pulling my shit together, I didn’t move even as he got in my space, right in my space, looking down at me as he reached around and put the bowl in the sink.

I heard the bowl hit as his face dipped to mine.

“Dig dude food, brown eyes,” he said.

“You give me an egg-goo kiss, I’m gonna barf,” I replied.

He burst out laughing, but lucky for me, he stepped back before he did it.

I watched, enjoying every second.

Merry gave me a grin before he turned and strode through the living room, muttering, “Best go brush my teeth.”

Ethan jumped off his stool, declaring, “I’m gonna do that too.”

I blinked, then stared at my son.

He brushed his teeth by his own choice…never. Like I had to ride him to take a shower, I had to get on his ass to brush his teeth.