“Yeah,” he said. “It works.”

But the way he said that, my attention on him sharpened.

And when I saw what I was pretty sure I saw, I accused, “You’re plannin’ a vacation for you, me, Ethan, and maybe even my mom somewhere near water, aren’t you?”

The faraway look in his eyes vanished and he smiled at me.

“Caught,” he whispered.

God, it had happened.

No, it kept happening.

I’d hoped. For the first time I’d hoped—hoped I was wrong that life couldn’t get better.

And he kept proving me wrong.

“You’re never gonna get a new house at this rate,” I warned.

“Yeah, I am,” he replied. “Shower sex with you is fantastic. Sink sex with you is out of this fuckin’ world. But you only got one bathroom in your pad and your boy is right next door to that and right across the hall from your room. And when you and Ethan come for sleepovers, I’m good with getting creative but not a big fan of having my options limited. So at least one of us needs a house that offers me options. Since it’s doubtful you can even disassemble your tribute to the flower generation and reassemble it in a new place, much less wanna do that, it’s up to me to find it. And a man will go to great lengths for options, which include the possible option of future vacation sex.”

“You’re gonna break the bank in order to secure fuck options?” I asked.

“Am I a man?”

“Yes.”

“Then do you realize that’s a stupid question?”

I started laughing. “Yes.”

“So I won’t bother answering it.”

I gave in to laughing.

As I was doing it, Merry joined me at the same time he rolled me so I had his weight and heat covering me.

When I was done, I slid a hand up his chest to cup his jaw.

“Prepare for gooey,” I warned.

His eyes were still lit with humor, but with my words, one side of his lips tipped up.

“Sock it to me.”

I didn’t delay in socking it to him.

“You don’t just make me happy, Merry. You keep making me happier.”

His face got warmer and more beautiful than ever.

“That’s the goal, brown eyes,” he whispered.

“You’re an overachiever,” I whispered back.

He didn’t reply.

He kissed me.

Then it was his turn to make love to me.

And there it was again.

Merry making me happier.

* * * * *

Garrett

Monday Morning

Garrett slid the pancakes he’d made in front of Ethan, who was sitting at the table.

He headed back to Cher’s stove.

Cher was at the countertop, bent over it, the ball of one foot resting on top of the other one, her eyes to a pad of paper on the counter.

“You’re still into the Star Wars theme?” she asked the paper, her question directed to her son.

“Yeah, Mom,” Ethan answered his pancakes, slathering butter on them.

“R2-D2 cake?” she went on, scribbling on the paper.