she said.
“Dada?” Abe’s voice sounded between them.
He’d forgotten that his son was still eating. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to watch Abe right next to him.
“Yes, son?” he said, wrapping an arm around Abe’s tiny, fragile shoulders as he surveyed the ketchup-smeared table. Abe had pushed what was left of his food-filled paper across to the other side of the table.
“Uh,” the boy grunted, bobbing up and down in his chair and pointing toward the door.
“He’s ready to go.” Jon gathered up the debris from their meal and retrieved a couple of packets from the back pocket of his jeans. The individually sealed antibacterial wipes he’d learned never to leave home without.
“Use your words, Abraham,” Lillie said softly from across the table as Jon tended to his son’s chubby little fingers and face first before starting on the table.
“Tell us what you want.” Lillie’s attention was intent on the boy. “Tell us you want to go,” she said.
With a small frown marring his brow, Abe’s big brown eyes studied the woman.
Jon wiped the table. He knew what Abraham wanted without needing to be told.
“Tell us you want to go,” she said again. “Go.”
“Gah,” Abe responded, bobbing up and down some more. “Gah.”
Jon grinned. A new word. Gah. It meant go.
“Gooo,” Lillie said, drawing out the long O sound. “Gooo.”
“Gah,” Abe repeated, grinning. “Gah.” The boy stood up on the bench and almost fell backward as his booster seat got in the way.
Jon reached out and steadied his son, feeling as though he’d just been given a new lease on life. He picked Abe up and set him on the ground.
“I was making it easy for him not to learn to talk,” Jon said to Lillie as they made their way through the restaurant. “He didn’t have to speak to get what he wanted.”
“That’s probably part of it. And he’s just turned two.”
“I do try to teach him words.” With Abe holding on to one hand, he held the door open for her.
“I don’t doubt that, Jon.” Lillie’s voice was soft. Tender. And, inside, he softened toward her.
“We’re working on potty training, too,” he added, still proving himself, just in case.
“Not too vigorously, I hope,” she said. “Boys generally train later than girls, closer to three than two. It takes that long for them to feel the sensation that they have to go. And trying to get him to understand what you want when he can’t recognize the feeling inside his body yet will only lead to frustration. For both of you.”
He’d read all of that.
“But sometimes they’re ready early,” he said. “I just wanted to give him the chance to move forward if he was ready. It’s not an everyday thing. Just an occasional invitation.”
He was talking about peeing with a woman he was attracted to.
“So—” Jon cleared his throat “—make a list of things you’d like done around your house,” he said, getting back on track. “Tomorrow is Sunday. I have the day off.” Except for cleaning the bathroom, washing the sheets, picking up groceries and studying. “I could come over and fix that door for you.”
They’d reached their vehicles, sitting side by side in the parking lot. Her newish dark blue Malibu next to his quite a bit older, four-door Ranger.
He wasn’t ready to leave her.
And he’d promised Mark that he and Abe would sit with Nonnie so Mark and Addy could have a night out.
“Tomorrow would be great.” Lillie leaned into him and, for a second, Jon thought she was going to kiss him.
And knew he’d kiss her back.
She kissed Abe on the cheek. “Anytime after noon would be fine,” she said.
What was she doing before noon?
He told himself it was none of his business as he watched her drive off.
Alone with Abe once more, Jon opened the back door of his truck, fastened the toddler securely in his car seat and settled himself in for the drive to Mark’s.
All in all they’d had a good day. Fun in the park. Good food.
And Abe had five words now instead of four.
Jon turned the truck toward Mark’s house, looking forward to a couple of hours of sparring with Mark Heber’s recalcitrant grandmother.
Hopefully Abe would fall asleep soon and Jon and Nonnie could get in a game of penny poker. The old bat had five dollars of his money.
CHAPTER SIX
JON HAD ASKED her to make a list of things she’d like done around her house. She did so, mentally, as she drove to Phoenix on Sunday morning. Overall, she loved the little house she’d bought close to the center of town, but a few of the rooms needed ceiling fans.
He’d have to bring Abe along when he installed them. It wasn’t like he could leave the toddler home alone.
She really wanted to have new faucets in the master bathroom. And one in the kitchen, too, with a pull out sprayer....
She’d need to baby-proof her home. She still had the cupboard safety catches she’d purchased when...
Maybe Jon could undermount her kitchen sink—a style of mounting that put the counter on top of the edge of the sink. She had granite countertops, which she’d had in her home in Phoenix and loved, but the sink was traditionally mounted. She’d grown used to undermounting. Preferred not to have to worry about water and other debris spilling over, wetting her outfit as she leaned against the edge of the counter as she worked.
A little boy in her home. Wandering from room to room...
The electrical outlet in her living room, the one behind the couch, didn’t work. Could Jon do electric?
She had brand-new sippy cups, still in their plastic. Was Abe too old for those?
There was the sticky latch on the window in the office. And she’d been meaning to get quotes on having a front porch put on....
Wait.
Taking the 202 to the 101, Lillie headed north toward Scottsdale and the little café that made breakfasts good enough to compel rich and famous people to wait for a table.
This thing with Jon. And Abraham. She wanted to help them because she knew she could. Because something about Abraham, the serious way he looked at her, as though
