The car goes from park to drive and moves down the street. People do stop along the side of the road sometimes, whether to text or mess with something in their car. But if Scarlet has seen this car before, and they left as soon as we stepped onto the porch, something is up.
“That’s weird, isn’t it?” Scarlet says, and I wrap my arm around her, keeping her warm. I watch the car go down the street, stopping and making a turn onto a one-way road.
“Yeah. That is a little weird. Let’s go in.” I lock the door behind us and pull my phone from my pocket, arming the house.
“Hopefully the crust is cooked through this time,” Scarlet says as we sit down. “I undercooked it last time.” She wrinkles her nose and looks so damn adorable.
“I liked the mushy-crust,” Jackson tells her.
“You were the only one,” I loudly whisper.
“Hey now.” Scarlet gives me a pointed look and we dig in. After dinner, I give Jackson a bath and put him to bed. Scarlet is sitting on the couch when I come back down, wrapped in a blanket. She’s holding a cup of tea in one hand and her book in the other.
“Want me to make a fire?” I ask, eyeing the brick fireplace that we rarely use. Call me paranoid or overprotective, but it makes me nervous to have the fire going with Jackson around. The fireplace is original to the house and the entire hearth gets pretty warm when a fire is going.
“That would be amazing.” She puts her book down. “And a little romantic.”
I wiggle my eyebrows and go to the couch first, needing to feel my lips against hers before I go outside and get firewood off the back porch.
“Do you want any tea?” she asks as I work on getting the fire going. It’s not as easy as it looks.
“No, but I will take some of that spiked cider.”
“Ohh, right. I almost forgot! I’ll heat us both a glass.”
I have a small, rather pathetic fire going by the time Scarlet comes back into the living room, carrying two mugs of steaming cider. We sit together in silence, drinking our cider and watching the flames.
“I could do this every night until summer,” she says, putting her mug down and snuggling up against me.
“Me too.” And then do it again next fall. And the one after that…and the one after that…
“Quinn asked if we wanted to double-date with her and Archer to dinner and a movie tomorrow. She already talked to your parents about watching both of the grandkids.”
“Yeah, that’d be fun. Are Dean and Kara going too?”
“She didn’t say they were. Is that weird to go and hang out with Archer when he’s Dean’s friend?”
“It’s not weird for me. Archer’s like another brother. But Dean can be possessive,” I say with a laugh. “I haven’t gone to see a movie that wasn’t G-rated in years.”
“I haven’t seen one in a while either. And just to warn you, I’m probably going to hog the popcorn, which has to have extra salt and tons of butter.”
“That’s the only way to eat movie-theater popcorn.”
“I’ll text Quinn back now before I forget.” She grabs her phone and fires off a text.
“You and Quinn seem to really get along.”
Scarlet smiles. “She’s great.”
“She is.” I put my empty mug on the coffee table. I don’t drink very often, and I think Scarlet put too much rum in the cider. Or maybe I’m feeling buzzed because I’m with Scarlet. “Having Jackson and Emma will be interesting.”
Scarlet laughs. “I think your parents can handle it. And Jackson loves Emma.”
“He does because they’re not together all that often. And he’s been difficult lately.”
“Yeah,” Scarlet agrees. “He was difficult today a few times.”
“What’d he do?”
“Nothing serious. Just defiant and I had to tell him multiple times to pick up. And I pretty much ruined his afternoon by giving him a green cup instead of a blue one.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Don’t be afraid to discipline him,” I remind her. We went over ways to handle his bad behavior from the start, but I know Scarlet still feels a little awkward. I don’t want her to, especially with the way things are going.
“I know. And after his meltdown at the grocery store the other day…” She shakes her head. “I got this.”
Fuck, I love this woman. “You do.”
She climbs into my lap and rakes her fingers across my back. It drives me crazy and she knows it. “I know it’s borderline arctic outside, but it’s a full moon. Want to look at it with your telescope with me?”
“Why does that sound dirty?”
“Everything sounds dirty to you.”
“That’s your fault,” I tell her. “I think about your pussy all damn day.”
“Weston,” she exclaims, faking shock and bringing her hand to her chest. “I’m a lady. How dare you speak like that in front of me.”