Page 17 of Up All Night
“Those kids are more than old enough to help out though. Everyone should know the basics of cooking.” I kept my voice practical. Sean didn’t need any additional guilt.
“I hear that. My mom gave me a crash course the summer before I got married. She made sure all three of us kids could hold our own in the kitchen.”
“Good mom.” I stared off at the freestanding garage that had old-fashioned carriage house styling. “I picked up skills here and there from various foster homes, but mainly from working restaurant gigs from fifteen on.”
“I’m… That must have sucked for you.” Sean had evidently thought better of the tired “I’m sorry” response that so many folks liked to trot out. “All four of Eric’s kids came from the foster-to-adopt program. Two sibling groups.”
“Lucky kids. Not everyone gets adopted. Some of us age out.” I shrugged and looked away when Sean’s face creased with concern.
“Your whole childhood was in foster care?” he said softly. “Wait. You don’t have to tell me. Of course I’m curious, but you don’t owe me your story.”
“It’s okay.” I appreciated that he was trying not to push, but the curiosity was natural. “And it’s a pretty short, common story. My parents were young and in and out of trouble even before I came along. Dad stuck around long enough to be on the birth certificate and to give me this name, but he was nowhere to be found when the state got involved a few years later. Mom made multiple attempts at sobriety, none of which stuck. I don’t remember much about either of them, but by the time the state finally terminated parental rights, I was at that hard-to-adopt elementary school age. School wasn’t my jam, and all the fights I wound up in didn’t exactly help my adoption prospects.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Sean’s voice was firm and loyal. “The system failed you. And that sucks. I hate how many kids have stories like yours, bouncing from home to home, eventually aging out. There aren’t enough families like Eric and Montgomery’s.”
“Yeah. These kids are lucky.” I glanced over at the trio with Eric again. He was clearly in dad mode and upset, but the love he had for the kids also came through loud and clear. “And I turned out okay,” I lied to reassure myself as much as Sean. “After I aged out, I had a lot of good years, bumming around the country, and food service work was always something I could fall back on.”
“Still had to be hard—hey, you have a cut.” Abruptly changing topics, Sean pointed at a thin line running the length of my palm onto my forearm.
Damn it. That would smart under a glove all night at the diner. “It’s a scratch. Nothing?—”
“Tate!” Sean cut me off to yell over to the ambulance crew. “Bring your kit over here.”
“Coming.” A younger EMT with closely cropped black hair standing near Eric started digging around in their rig.
“Seriously. I don’t need patching up,” I said, only to get a stern look from Sean. More of that leadership potential others saw so easily. He was darn near commanding as he pushed me to sit on a nearby bench.
“You’re going to let Tate look you over.”
“Thought I gave the orders around here.” I kept my voice low but meaningful.
“Using what? Telepathy?” Sean’s reply was equally pointed. And warranted.
“Guess I deserve that.” I met his harsh gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t text.”
“It’s… It is what it is.” Sean quirked his mouth. Something twisted in my gut. Gone was the happy-go-lucky guy with a counter for my every objection. And, perversely, I missed that guy and his determination. “If you’ve changed your mind…”
“Nope,” I said quickly as the younger EMT headed our way. My fear morphed again, fear of missing out on more of Sean and his sunshine personality and those world-shattering kisses making me reckless. “Tomorrow morning. After our shifts. Kids will be at school?”
“I’ll be there.” He nodded sharply. No chance of a no-show there, no playing hard to get after my failure to get in touch. Sean would be there, and all I could do was hope I wouldn’t regret it too much.
ChapterNine
Denver
Sean was exactly on time as predicted, going so far as to send me a text as he left the station that Eric and the other roommate, Jonas, were handling getting the teens off to school. No surprise that Sean also included a precise ETA. I narrowly beat him to my place and had just enough time to shower and pull on a pair of baggy lounge pants. I didn’t bother with a shirt. We both knew what he was coming for.
Accordingly, I opened the door to usher him in with a dry, “You came.”
“Well, not yet.” Sean’s infectious grin was firmly in place despite the early hour. He also looked awfully fresh with damp slightly curly hair and a clean green pullover and jeans. “But here’s to hoping.”
He held out a white paper bag for me to take before hanging up his own coat on my coat tree.
“What’s this?” My mouth twisted as I studied the bag. Sean didn’t seem the type to so obviously bring the lube. “Supplies?”
“Muffins.” His pale cheeks flushed pink. “I passed that new spot on my way back from the station. An offer of coffee seemed dicey, coming on the heels of a shift. Ditto beer at seven in the morning.” His good cheer flagged a little at my lack of reply. “Hookup no-no to bring food?”
Actually, I’d never had a hookup bring snacks and couldn’t say as I’d had many dates of the food-and-activity variety. But I didn’t want Sean to feel bad for making the effort.