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Better.
Kamden hasn’t moved an inch from where I left him, but now his arms are wrapped around his middle like he’s holding himself together. “Is it… a bomb?”
I glance over my shoulder. “Probably not.”
His eyes go wide. “Probably?”
“Meant to sound reassuring.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Yeah, caught that. Sorry, sweetheart.”
I move closer, skim the shipping label, and see my name, this address, but no return info. Listed weight suggests something solid inside—heavy enough to warrant the hand truck. I call the delivery service anyway, run through their automated prompts until a human confirms it was logged under a commercial account, scanned at three depots, and nothing out of the ordinary along the route.
Unlikely to be lethal then—just potentially unpleasant.
I straighten up slowly. “It’s fine.”
He doesn’t budge. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Like… sure-sure?”
I turn fully toward him now. “Kammie.”
“You said probably before.”
“Upgrading to sure.”
“How reassuring,” he mutters dryly.
A smirk tugs at my mouth despite everything. “Come here.”
That gets him moving—he practically bounces up the last few steps, relief smoothing out the worry lines around his eyes now that I’ve given the all-clear. The moment he’s within reach, I curl a hand around the back of his neck and press a firm kiss to his forehead. He leans into it instinctively, tension melting under my touch.
“You did good staying put.”
A faint blush warms his cheeks. “Thank you.”
I nod toward the box again. “What d’you think it is?”
He cranes his neck around me like a curious bird. “It’s big.”
“Excellent observation.”
“Maybe… furniture?”
“Didn’t order furniture.”
“Well, yeah, I figured you didn’t order whatever it is since you went straight to thinking it’s a bomb.”
I raise an eyebrow, watching him try and fail to hide a smirk. “Is that some sass I sense?”
He ducks his head and mumbles, “No, Daddy.”
I snort, then turn the key in the lock, push the door open, and leave the box on the porch for now.
