“Yes, please,” I said.
He handed it to me, and we ate together, quietly, while Olive watched cartoons between us. Her little feet just barely hung off the edge of the seat cushion, and she bounced them up and down once in a while.
After two cartoons, I drifted off and woke up when my head fell forward.
“Hey,” Trenton said, patting my knee. “Why don’t you go take a nap? We can go.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to go.”
Trenton stared at me for a minute, and then motioned for Olive to trade places with him. She hopped up, more than happy to comply. Trenton sat next to me, leaning over a bit, and then nodded, gesturing to his shoulder. “It’s comfy. Or so I hear.”
I made a face, but instead of arguing, I wrapped my arms around his, and rested my head snugly between his shoulder and his neck. Trenton rested his cheek against my hair, and at the same time we took a deep breath and relaxed against each other.
I don’t remember anything after that, until my eyes blinked open. Olive was asleep, her head on Trenton’s lap. His arm was lying protectively over her, the other wrapped in my arms. His hand was resting on my thigh, and his chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm.
Raegan and Brazil were sitting on the sofa, watching the muted television. When Raegan realized I was awake, she smiled.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“What time is it?” I said softly. “Noon.”
“Really?” I said, sitting up.
Trenton roused, and immediately checked Olive. “Whoa. How long have we been out?”
“A little over three hours,” I said, wiping under my eyes.
“I didn’t even know I was tired,” Trenton said.
Brazil smiled. “I didn’t know you were dating the bartender. Kyle and Brad will be disappointed.”
I frowned at him. I didn’t even know who Kyle and Brad were.
“They can cheer up. We’re just friends,” Trenton said.
“Really?” Brazil said, watching us both for signs of a joke.
“I told you,” Raegan said, standing up. Her tank top came away from her teeny-tiny pink-and-white-striped boxers as she stretched. “Brazil has a game at four thirty. You guys up for some Bulldog Football?”
“I’m watching Olive,” Trenton said. “We were going to ask Cami to come with us to Chicken Joe’s.”
“Olive might like football,” Brazil said.
“Jason . . .” Trenton said, shaking his head. “Chicken Joe’s outdoes a football game by like . . . a thousand cool points.”
“How do you know unless you take her to one?”
“I have. She still hasn’t let me live it down.”
“Is she your baby cousin or something?” Brazil asked. “Why is she with you all the time?”
Trenton shrugged. “She had an older brother. He would have been fourteen today. She worshipped him. He was hit by a car on his bike a few months before they moved next door. Olive sat next to him while he took his last breath. I’m just trying to fill the shoes.”
“That’s rough, man, but . . . and I mean no offense . . . but, you’re a Maddox.”
“Yeah? So?” Trenton said.
“I know you’re a good guy, but you’re a tatted-up, whiskey-drinking, foul-mouthed hothead. Her parents just let her get in the car with you?”
“It was just a natural progression, I guess.”
“But . . . why is she your responsibility?” Brazil said. “I don’t get it.”
Trenton looked down at Olive, who was still sound asleep. He brushed a wispy ash-blond strand from her eyes, and then shrugged. “Why not?”
I smiled at his simple show of affection. “Chicken Joe’s it is. But I’ll have to cut out early to get ready for work.”
“Deal,” Trenton said with a smile, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“Well, I have errands to run,” Raegan said.
“I’ve got to grab some carbs and head to the field house,” Brazil said. When he stood, he patted Raegan’s backside, leaned over to kiss her, and then grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys before slamming the door behind him.
Olive’s eyes popped open.
“Yay!” Trenton said. “She’s awake! Now we can EAT HER!” He leaned over and pretended to bite her belly while tickling her.
She giggled hysterically. “Nooooo. I have to peeeee!”
“Whoa!” Trenton said, holding up his hands.
“This way,” I said, leading Olive by the hand to the bathroom in the hall. Her bare feet padded against the tile floor. “TP, soap, hand towel,” I said, pointing to the various items.
“Got it,” she said. She looked so tiny standing in the middle of the bathroom. She raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to stay?”
“Oh! No. I’m sorry,” I said, backing out and closing the door.
I turned and walked over to Trenton, who was standing in the walk space between the breakfast bar and the love seat.
“She’s pretty great,” he said, smiling.
“You’re pretty great,” I said.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Yeah.” We stared a quiet moment, just watching each other and smiling, and then a familiar feeling came over me, a tingling in my gut, and a warmth on my lips. I focused on his mouth, and he took a step toward me.
“Trent . . .”
He shook his head, leaned in, and closed his eyes. I did the same, waiting to feel his lips on mine.
The toilet flushed, and we both pulled away. The air between us was suddenly thick and tense. As the anticipation of what we were about to do melted away, an overwhelming awkwardness replaced it.
Olive stood in the hallway, staring at us. She itched her elbow, and then her nose. “Lunch?”
I offered an apologetic half smile. “I need to make a grocery run.”
“Good plan,” Trenton said, clapping his hands and then rubbing them together. “Supermarket?”
Olive grinned from one ear to the other. “Can I sit in the basket that’s also a cawr?”
Trenton looked to me, while helping Olive with her coat.
“Sure!” I said, realizing now why Trenton was so dedicated to making her happy. Making her smile was addictive.
Olive did a little dance, and then Trenton began to dance. He looked absolutely ridiculous, so I joined in, too.