LITMIR.BIZ

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and boisterous, sounded from the kitchen. “I’m warning you.”

      Liam wasn’t outside, but the knowledge didn’t loosen the tension in her shoulders. Something was going on.

      Grace accelerated her pace, lengthening her stride. She rounded the corner. Skidded to a stop.

      On the floor between the dining area and breakfast bar, Bill sat crisscross applesauce with Liam and at least thirty dominoes set up in a row.

      “I mean it this time.” Bill tried to sound serious, but his mouth curved upward, a big grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t touch the dominoes!”

      Defiance gleamed in Liam’s gaze. Mischief, too. He raised his arm, made a small fist and pushed over the first domino. The rest cascaded one on top of the other.

      “You did it again!” Bill placed his hand over his heart and tumbled to the floor as if he’d been knocked over, too. “What are we going to do, Peanut? Liam won’t listen.”

      Her son giggled.

      The sheer delight in his voice warmed Grace’s insides. Her pulse slowed. Her heart rate returned to normal. A bolt of guilt flashed through her at being so quick to think the worst of Bill Paulson when she’d woken up without Liam next to her.

      Liam clapped. “Again. Again.”

      “Okay, kid. But only for you.” Bill reset the dominoes, a job that took patience and a steady hand. “One more time.”

      Liam spread his fingers. “Ten more.”

      Grace wondered how many times they’d played this game. Knowing Liam, at least ten, but Bill didn’t seem to mind.

      “Two more,” Bill countered. “I’m getting hungry.”

      “Four more. I help cook.”

      “You strike a hard bargain, little dude.” He stuck out his arm. “But it’s a deal.”

      Liam shook Bill’s hand. “Deal.”

      The guys from Damon’s squad, Liam’s honorary uncles, visited when they could, but over the past two years they’d dropped by less and less. Some attended professional development schools. Some went to Special Forces training. Some joined other military units. Some left the army. Their group of friends had gotten smaller, but Liam had never been this animated with them, people he’d known his entire life. He rarely acted this way with her. Only Peanut. Liam’s one and only friend.

      Though Bill Paulson could probably qualify as her son’s friend now. The guy had the right touch with Liam.

      Jealousy stabbed Grace, an unexpected emotion. One she didn’t like.

      So what if her son had a new friend? Bill was nothing more than a nice guy who’d offered them shelter for the night. Something she would expect from a man who rescued people for a living, but she hadn’t imagined a bachelor being so in tune with a three-year-old.

      Watching Bill and her son play together made her feel older than twenty-six. Sure, she got on the floor, and didn’t mind a big mess with art projects or mud. But she was always so tired, as if she carried a hundred-pound pack all day, struggling to keep herself balanced and not fall over like one of those dominoes.

      Unlike Bill. No tired eyes. No sagging shoulders. Only smiles and an innate strength she felt from the doorway.

      She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Good morning.”

      Liam jumped to his feet and ran toward her. “Mommy.”

      The excitement in his voice warmed Grace’s heart. This was more like it. She scooped him up, eager to have him in her arms. “I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.”

      Liam gave her a wet kiss. “I wake up. Peanut, too. You asleep so I get Bill.”

      “You mean Mr. Paulson.”

      “That’s my dad’s name.” Bill stood. “Liam can call me by my first name.”

      “Okay.” She relented only because they would be leaving today. She cuddled her son close. Sniffed. “You smell like cookies.”

      Liam pointed to his new best friend. “Big dude.”

      Bill’s cheeks reddened. “Liam wanted to wait until you were up to have breakfast, but we were a little hungry.”

      “Hungry men eat cookies.” Liam spoke the words with a growly voice, as if mimicking someone.

      Bill’s entire face turned red. He cleared his throat. “Cookies have flour, eggs and milk in them. Not that different from pancakes.”

      “Cookies are healthy.” Liam bent his arm to show off his biceps. “Make me strong. Like Bill.”

      Grace covered her mouth with her hand and bit back laughter. “I can let cookies before breakfast slide this one time.”

      Bill’s grin made him look more like one of Liam’s peers than hers. “I appreciate that.”

      “It’s the least I can do after being able to sleep in. That never happens.” Or hadn’t since Damon’s final deployment. Grace was reminded of what she and Liam had lost in the mountains of Afghanistan, of what other people took for granted, without giving their good fortune a second thought. “I hope Liam didn’t wake you up too early.”

      “I was awake when he knocked on my door. No reason for both of us to be up at the crack of dawn.” Bill studied her with his watchful gaze. “I hope you weren’t worried when he wasn’t in bed.”

      She hugged Liam tight, remembering her fear waking up without him. He was all she had. “I had a moment of panic until I heard you in the kitchen.”

      Liam pushed away from her. “I winning.”

      Grace placed him on the floor. “You always win.”

      “And here I thought I had the age advantage,” Bill joked. “Liam’s quite the domino shark. He’s kicking my bu—er, behind.”

      She appreciated the way Bill watched his language.

      “I shark. Let’s play,” Liam shouted.

      “Duty calls.” Bill set up more dominoes. “Breakfast will have to wait a few more minutes.”

      “You boys play.” Grace knew having a guy to play with was a big deal for her son. She’d let him have his fun. “I’ll fix breakfast.”

      Bill’s gaze met hers. “I don’t mind cooking.”

      “Neither do I.”

      “You’re a guest.”

      “And you’re sweet.” She meant each word. “Consider my cooking breakfast a bonus on top of the postcard I’ll be sending.”

      He glanced at a waiting Liam, then back at her.

      “Okay.” He returned to setting up dominoes. “It’s better this way. The guys at the station aren’t that keen on my cooking.”

      “I find that hard to believe.” He seemed like the kind of man who could do anything, including setting up dominoes while carrying on a conversation. “It’s hard to ruin pancakes.”

      “Unless you burn them, turning breakfast into a three-alarm call.”

      “You’re a firefighter,” she said. “I’m sure you can take care of any flames.”

      “Oh, I know how to put out fires.” He looked up with a mischievous grin. “I also know how to start them.”

      His words, flirtatious and suggestive, hung in the air. His gaze remained on her.

      Grace’s pulse skittered. Attraction buzzed all the way to her toes. Something passed between them. Something palpable. Something unsettling.

      She looked away. Gulped.

      “I

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