Page 30 of The Flirty Vet

I try to grin, but my lips don't want to move. Why is this hitting me so hard? Twenty-four hours ago, I didn't even know he existed.

Another boarding call screeches through the airport.

I run my hand down the front of his shirt. "I'm glad I met you, Wilby Linfox."

He looks me right in the eyes. "I'm glad I met you, too, Col Langdon."

6

Wilby

I land on the wooden floor with a heavy thud…

Ow.

Who needs to set an alarm when you've got a six-year-old world-class sheet hog kicking you out of your own bed every morning?

I roll over onto my back.

Ow.

My sore back.

I already hurt my wrist last week. I've been meaning to rustle up all the spare pillows and blankets we have and line them around the base of the bed, but I've been too busy to get around to it.

"Morning, Uncle Wilby!"

I'm greeted by two bright-blue eyes and one helluva gappy smile. Little dude lost both front teeth last week. It's cute as hell.

I smile up at him. "Morning, Kolby."

You know what? Sure, I could do without the pain swelling in my lower back, and my wrist, and my balls from where he landed his foot last night, but this right here, these few precious seconds I have staring up at my nephew each morning, gives me hope, brief and fleeting as it may be, that even when everything goes to shit—and it fucking will—we'll still have each other. Nothing will ever change that. We may lose everything we own, but no one can ever take this away.

"Why do you always fall out of bed? You do it every morning."

"Because some sneaky, stinky munchkin crawls in here and kicks me out."

He laughs hysterically at that, as he does every single morning when he asks the same question. "Can I jump on you?"

"Mate, those days are well and truly over." I sit up to make my body a less attractive launching pad.

I used to bounce him on my belly when he was a toddler, and somehow, he still remembers that. Kids, I find, are a lot like animals. Creatures of habit. Teach them the wrong habits, and you're in for a lifetime of abdominal pain.

"Come on." I clamber to my feet. "Let's get you and your sister clean, fed, and ready for school."

"School, ughhh," he groans.

"Mate, you go to the best school in the world. Stop complaining. Now get up."

He falls back onto the bed, his eyes closing before his head even hits the pillow.

"Oh, you're sleeping, are you?"

He doesn't answer. Too busy sleeping, obviously.

"That's such a shame 'cause Gran's making pancakes for brekky this morning…"

An eye pops open. He pulls the sheet up to cover his mouth. "With maple syrup?" he murmurs.