“Good,” he said with his easygoing grin. “I know you’ll be more comfortable with something in writing. I’m fine with winging it, but that’s not how you like to do things.”

After all these years, Easton still knew me too well. I’d been a dot-the-i’s-and-cross-the-t’s kind of person, controlling any aspect of my life I’d been able to control by being super-organized. I was still like that. Hell, I’d color-coded and labelled every box and item so my moving crew would know exactly where it went. If that wasn’t over-organized, I didn’t know what was.

Easton stepped closer to me until I felt the heat from his body. I didn’t move. My feet were anchored to the floor. We didn’t touch, but my body reacted as if we had. Every nerve ending was supercharged and hyperaware of the sexy man standing merely inches away. If there hadn’t been people nearby, I’d have jumped him, ripped off his clothes, and fucked his gorgeous brains out, despite my vows not to do so. My gaze dropped to his jeans and the telltale bulge pressing against his fly. He wanted me, too. No doubt about that. Slowly, I ran my gaze up his body, not caring that I was caught admiring him. He’d had an amazing physique as a teenager. I couldn’t imagine what he’d look like naked now. Okay, I lied. I did imagine what he looked like every single night when I lay in bed. I did pleasure myself to thoughts of him, rather than Mark. The disloyalty of such acts wasn’t lost on me, but Mark wasn’t here, and he was never coming back.

“Caro?” Easton’s deep voice pulled my attention away from his broad chest and my guilty thoughts. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said tightly.

“We’ll make this work, Caro.” Easton lowered his voice so only I could hear, not that anyone was paying attention to us.

Make what work? Was he referring to co-parenting or something more?

~~Easton~~

Thanksgiving came and went. I had a fantasy Caro and me and the kids would have our first Thanksgiving together. We did not. I went to Coop and Izzy’s instead, while Caro insisted on a private Thanksgiving as it was the twins’ first major holiday without Mark.

I wasn’t happy about her decision, but I wasn’t in a position to do much about it either. In some ways, I had to admit she was right, but from a personal point of view, I guess I was butt-hurt at being excluded from their holiday. Christmas would not happen like this.

The Sockeyes played home games both the day before and day after Thanksgiving. I was pretty busy, and despite their proximity to my doorway—about fifteen feet—I didn’t see much of Caro and Co. until the following week. They also needed time to pack and settle in. Even though I was itching to start what I considered my new life as a father, I backed off, giving them the necessary space.