had given up on his Crazy Dog playdate, and he barreled up the steps toward them. But he didn’t just come onto the porch. He crawled into the porch swing, wriggling his pint-size body in between Claire and him. He had a toy car in each hand. Several were crammed in his pockets, and the ones in his left pocket dug into the outside of Riley’s thigh. Since that was his sore leg, the pain nudged Riley a bit, but he didn’t move. Riley wanted to hang on to this closeness for a little while.
“Angel,” Ethan said, and he pointed to the Combat Rescue Officer badge on Riley’s uniform. The kid climbed into Riley’s lap to get a better look at it.
“No.” Claire immediately reached for her son, probably because she thought it would hurt Riley.
And it did. More than just a nudge this time, but Riley stopped her from whisking him up. Instead, Riley fished out his phone and maneuvered Claire closer so that her head was right against Ethan’s.
“Smile. It’s a picture for Anna,” he said, snapping the shot. “She wanted to see how big Ethan’s getting.”
That was such a huge lie that Riley thought it might spur even Crazy Dog to action. Claire gave him that look, the one that let him know that she knew he was lying, but the look also told him that she really wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was simmering beneath the lie.
Good.
Because Riley turned the phone and snapped a picture of just her. She was caught with her mouth slightly puckered, as if she was waiting for that kiss he’d been considering.
Hell. He just might have a cure for those flashbacks after all.
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