She lets out an uneasy sigh. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

I take her face in my hands, gently kiss her sweet lips and whisper, “Have I ever been wrong?”

That earns me a much-deserved eye-roll, along with the laugh I was hoping for. I kiss her again. This time it isn’t sweet. It’s dirty and delicious. I wander my hands down to her ass, giving a little squeeze, as I slip my tongue into her mouth. She’s still the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.

“Jesus, get a room,” Jackson calls out across the waiting room, the little cock blocker.

“Don’t be an ass, she’s nervous,” I retort.

“Don’t call him that,” Elizabeth reprimands me with a slap on the shoulder before wrapping Jackson in her arms. He’s not even thirteen yet, but he’s already a few inches taller than her. It doesn’t stop her from babying him. I swear, sometimes I’m worried she’ll smother that kid. But that’s Elizabeth. She doesn’t know how to love halfway.

“I wasn’t calling him anything. I was telling him to amend his behavior. And, besides, it’s your fault for being irresistible,” I counter in my own defense. Elizabeth and Jackson roll their eyes in unison. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he was her biological kid.

“Gross,” Jackson scoffs at me. Wrapping his arms around Elizabeth, he adds, “Sorry.” Jackson hugs her, squeezing tightly, making sure she’s real. I know the feeling. Some days I think I dreamed her up too.

We’ve been fostering the scrawny punk for three years. At nine, Jackson thought he was tough enough to take on the whole world by himself. Within the first five minutes of meeting him, Elizabeth was determined to make sure he’d never have to. It took time for Jackson to trust, to believe us when we said I love you and promised we’d always be there for him. I can’t say I blame him. We all have our own baggage in life, but Elizabeth is a hard woman to ignore. She has a way of worming into a person’s heart and earning their trust before they’re able to resist.

“Don’t listen to him. I’m fine.” Elizabeth tries to make her voice sound calm, but underneath she’s frazzled. I flash her a knowing smile, just so she doesn’t think she’s fooling anyone.

Jackson clears his throat, drawing both our attention. “In that case, can I talk to Dad for a minute? Alone.” I’m still getting used to that word, but I’ve never felt prouder than the first time Jackson called me his dad.