With strategically draped blankets over the rope, tables, and chairs, he and the kids built a vast tunnel city. Inside the tunnels, throw rugs and pillows covered the bare hardwood.

With Gryff and Sirius following, Regan and Aric had disappeared into the maze.

Later, when the kids took a break to fetch eggs from the chicken pen, Hawk hid “treasure” in various places in the tunnels.

Assigning each kid half of the system, he set them to hunting.

Seated at the kitchen island, he drank his coffee and enjoyed their excitement. Had the sarge felt this odd sense of contentment when Gabe, Bull, Caz, and Hawk had been immersed in their games?

A high squeal broke the silence. Exiting one opening, Aric stood up to wave his first find—a dinosaur.

“What’d you get?” Popping out of a tunnel in her area, Regan ran to see.

A few minutes later, back inside, she yelled her happiness at finding the Mulan coloring book JJ had suggested.

Funny how noisy squeals and giggles could transform to a feeling of peace deep in his soul. Taking another sip of coffee, he let himself savor the pleasures of the previous week.

Simply being home. Evenings with the family. Making music together in a way that felt as if the songs were creating bonds between them in the same way the tunnels here connected to each other.

Several times, he’d joined Aric and Kit for supper and spent the evening. They’d played preschool board games or hide and seek, watched kid movies, and read books.

After the boy was in bed, Hawk would stay downstairs with Kit—for talking, for kissing, for touching.

Last night, he’d gotten her off with his fingers, then held her when she cried. She’d insisted it was happy crying.

He shook his head. Shedding tears for happiness wasn’t in his toolbox. Maybe it was a female thing.

Fuck, he liked being with her. She had a quiet spirit. She’d talk when she had something relevant to say but didn’t need to fill silence with empty chatter.

And he didn’t have to come up with a bunch of shit to say, either. She was comfortable when his side of a conversation contained a hell of a lot fewer words.

Even the standard this-isn’t-a-serious-relationship conversation had been reduced to almost nothing. Kit had looked at him and shook her head. “I know this won’t go anywhere, but I’m really glad you’re here now.”

Her acceptance of a lack of a future together had hurt, down inside, but was a relief too. Short-term. He could handle that.

Just as he could handle the slow pace as they learned about each other. Kit liked to snuggle, but he didn’t touch her without giving notice. She’d realized he didn’t like being grabbed, either. Yeah, they were moving carefully.