Page 114 of That Rush

Her lips part.

“Dad,” Josie calls from the doorway. “Grandma says the ice cream is in the freezer right above you.”

Paige drops her forehead against my chest, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

I look over my shoulder. Josie stands with two empty bowls, one hip jutted out.

“Tell Grandma we found it.”

“She said you forgot it.”

“I was busy.”

“Living room, Josie,” I say.

She disappears with the bowls.

Paige lifts her face. “Your daughter is going to tell everyone.”

“They already know exactly why Mom sent us in here.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“You started it.”

“And I regret nothing.”

I kiss her once more, a quick brush of lips, then take the ice cream from the freezer.

Twenty minutes later, I walk Paige outside. The noise of the house, and of Josie saying goodnight for the third time, follows us through the open door into the yellow wash of the porch light.

Paige stops beside her SUV. “I had a good time.”

“I know.”

“You sound pleased with yourself.”

“I’m pleased with you.”

Her brows lift.

“With your choice,” I clarify. “I’m keeping the distinction clear.”

“Good recovery.”

“I’ve had a demanding teacher.”

She runs her thumb along my jaw. “Are you and Josie busy next Friday?”

“We can be free.”

“That answer was suspiciously fast.”

“I know our schedule.”

“Of course you do.” She takes a breath. “Come to my cabin for the night. Both of you. We can make dinner, take the easy trail if Josie wants, and read on the porch. I have a spare room for her.”

I clamp down on every plan already forming in my head. “We’d like that.”