Page 199 of When Love Takes Root

Skye climbed into the chair beside Josiah without asking anybody, then folded her hands on the table with the seriousness of a church mother about to start announcements. “Do you like our mama?”

My hand stopped halfway to my napkin. JJ looked at the ceiling like he needed the Lord to personally escort him away from this family. Kayden’s eyes widened, then narrowed because, apparently, he was embarrassed but also interested. Zuri leaned back with a satisfied little expression, which told me she’d either planned this or approved of the ambush after the fact.

Josiah didn’t flinch.

He unfolded his napkin, placed it across his lap, and looked at my baby girl with complete seriousness. “I like your mama very much.”

Skye squinted. “Like church like or kissing like?”

“Skye!”

My voice came out sharper than I intended, and heat climbed my neck while my daughter sat there looking unbothered and spiritually curious.

Josiah’s lips twitched, but he kept his composure better than I deserved. “That sounds like a conversation your mama and I should answer with wisdom.”

Zuri leaned forward. “That means kissing.”

JJ made a strangled sound.

Kayden covered his face with one hand, but his ears turned red.

I pointed across the table. “Everybody, order food before I start praying correction over this whole section.”

Josiah finally laughed, deep and warm, and it moved through me like sunlight touching a window I’d forgotten how to open. I looked down at my menu, but the words blurred because my heart was too busy noticing how naturally he fit without forcing his way in.

Breakfast saved us for six minutes.

Then Zuri struck again.

“Do you want more kids?”

My fork hit the plate.

“Zuri Coleman.”

“What? We want a little brother.”

Skye nodded with her whole face. “A baby one.”

Maya frowned. “Babies don’t stay babies.”

“But they start there,” Skye said.

JJ looked at Kayden. “This is your fault somehow.”

Kayden lifted both hands. “I’m literally eating.”

Josiah took a sip of water, buying himself time, but his eyes slid to mine. I saw the care there before he answered. He wasn’t amused at my expense; he was asking without words how much space I wanted him to take, and that gentle restraint made my ribs ache in a place grief used to occupy alone.

“I love children,” Josiah said. “But that’s a grown-folks conversation for way down the road.”

Zuri considered that, her eyes narrowing like she’d just found a loophole. “So maybe?”

“Zuri.”

Josiah smiled into his glass. “Way down the road, baby girl.”

She nodded like she’d entered it into the public record.