swung the boy in his arms and carried him inside to the bathroom. “Cleanup time. You, too, Gracie,” he called over one shoulder.
“I’m coming.” Gracie obediently trotted along behind him.
“And don’t cheap out on the soap either,” Wyatt warned. “I’m going to smell your hands when you’re finished, and I only want to smell soap.”
“Did your mommy used to smell your hands?”
Uh-oh. In the kitchen, Ellie froze at her daughter’s question and the sudden silence that ensued.
“Supper’s ready,” she called, hoping to end Gracie’s inquisitiveness and relieve Wyatt from the necessity of answering. To her surprise the three emerged with big grins. “What happened?” she asked in confusion.
“Cade splashed water all over the floor. We nearly floated away,” Wyatt said as he set his son in his high chair. “And, no, Gracie. My mom didn’t tell me that. Actually I didn’t have a mom while I was growing up.”
While Ellie set the serving dishes on the table she tried to decipher Wyatt’s tone. She saw no distress on his handsome face.
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