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Harvey Eaton loves his boys with a fierceness I admire.
“Please, Summer. Make my day. Tell me he’s in time out. Tell me he’s a thirty-two-year-old man with a full-time nanny.”
“Don’t test my patience this morning, Eaton. I need at least three cups of coffee before I can deal with this adorable version of you.”
“Rather than kissing your magazine pages, you can try out the real thing.”
“Rhett Eaton. What. The. Fuck. Do you think you’re doing?”
This protective streak. And I fucking live for that.
The Eaton boys are a whole mood this morning.
“You did good,” I say, forcing his eyes to snap up to mine. A blush creeps over my cheeks, and I drop his gaze when I add, “I’m proud of you.”
I pin him with my eyes as I sit up on the edge of the bed and reach for him. “I don’t want it, Rhett. I want you.”
“You’ve got me, Princess. Only you, I promise,”
I laugh. That’s such a Summer thing to say, always worrying about everyone else.
Summer wasn’t just made for me. She’s it for me.
Summer: Good luck tonight. Rhett: I love you.
You’re . . .” Her voice cracks and tears well in her eyes. “You’re it for me too.”
Always thinking about me. Just like I’m always thinking about her.
She’s my person. And I’m hers. Two halves of the same whole.
