“There is.” She smiled and combed her fingers through his hair. “But we’ve got one problem.”
His gut tightened. “What?”
With a serious face, she said, “Your bowling . . . is atrocious.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Three months later . . .
Aileen sat on the floor, surrounded by toys and wrapping paper that littered the floor up to her elbows. “This is insane.”
“This is ah-mazing!” Charlie shrieked, diving into a pile of paper and ribbons. The colorful confection exploded and she closed her eyes before getting decked by a piece of Styrofoam.
Ernie—or Grandpa Ernie, as he’d insisted Charlie refer to him—and Mrs. Reynolds—Nanny R, at her request—had both left an hour ago to head home. As Aileen had suspected, they’d gotten along pretty well with one another. Little had she and Killian known they were each bringing a truckload of gifts for Charlie’s birthday. Between the haul he managed from his pseudo-grandparents, plus the gifts she and Killian had given him, he’d scored. Big time.
“Hey, buddy, come here.” She held out her arms, tears stinging the backs of her eyes as he crawled into her and nuzzled at her shoulder. He’d accepted her in Killian’s life as easily as she could have imagined any child. It probably helped that his mother had paved the way by starting to date someone seriously herself. From the sounds of it, Aileen wouldn’t be shocked to hear Emma report an engagement from their spring trip to Jamaica.
A trip she didn’t envy them for, as it meant Killian got to spend Charlie’s entire spring break—including Charlie’s actual birthday—with his son.
“You’re looking pretty spiffy in your new shirt, aren’t you?” She pulled Charlie back enough to look at his polo shirt. The shirt was royal blue with gold stitching. Bobcat colors, Charlie had proudly exclaimed as he’d pulled it from the box. His name was embroidered over the right breast pocket with a set of bowling pins. It matched the larger version both Aileen and Killian were wearing. Gifts from Ernie, who proclaimed them to be their own team now. And every team needed their own uniforms, didn’t they?
“When do we go bowling again?” Charlie asked, reaching down to grab a Transformer toy and pull it up into his lap.
Smoothing the hair from his brow, much like she often did with his father, she said, “Your dad’s beginner’s league is on Tuesday normally, but they’re breaking for spring break. We can go together, just us, the day after tomorrow if you want.”
“No bumpers this time,” he insisted.
“No bumpers,” she promised, inwardly grimacing. But hey, he’d learn.
“Lemonade is served. One with extra ice cubes and two regular.” Killian walked out from the kitchen and set three mugs on the coffee table in front of them. “Charlie, yours is the one with Star Wars.”
“I’m counting the ice cubes,” he announced, and sat up from Aileen’s lap to do so.
“And your drink,” Killian said with a fake British accent.
She took a careful sip. “Not bad.” Kissing him, she tasted the tartness on his lips. “When are you gonna FaceTime with Emma?”
“Waiting for her text. Her reception is spotty, so it’s up to her to find a good spot.” He brushed a finger over the stitching on his pocket. “These aren’t half bad. Think I could get an entire Bobcat bowling team going?”
She laughed and laid her head on his shoulder, watching the beginning credits of a Phineas and Ferb episode start.
“I love you.” He kissed her temple and draped an arm around her. Their backs rested against the couch cushions, their butts were padded by at least three inches of wrapping paper, and the apartment they now shared was a mess. But it was perfect pandemonium.
They watched as Charlie drank his lemonade and gave a running commentary on how illogical Phineas’ plan to build a time machine was. Aileen poked him with a sock-covered foot. “Quiet down in the peanut gallery.”
That sent him off on another spasm of giggles.
“He’s on a sugar high,” Killian muttered. “Emma better text soon, or she’s gonna be FaceTiming with a comatose Charlie.”
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “Kids are allowed to gorge on icing and candy for their birthday.”
“Charlie,” Killian prodded after a moment. “I think we forgot one gift.”
Aileen’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious. Another one?”
Charlie’s grin was devilish as he raced into the master bedroom. She raised a brow at Killian, but he merely sent her an innocent shrug and a wink. His son was back a moment later, walking slowly and holding his hands very steady as he traipsed through the discarded, torn paper. Halting before Aileen, he extended his arms for her to take the gift.