Dave held Brayden like the baby was a yowling cat, his arms straight out in front of him. “Sissy,” he said, but she dashed back up the steps with the speed of an Olympian. Brayden squirmed, and Dave didn’t want to drop the baby, so he curled him into his elbow like a football.
He went up the steps and into the house to catch her setting a pan on top of the stove, the oven door open in front of her. The scene was so domestic and so surreal that he paused just inside the door. He’d imagined something like this between him and Sissy so many times, to have it playing out in front of him in live color made his heart jump around inside his chest.
He felt like he’d been put on a roller coaster a month ago, sometimes swelling higher and sometimes dipping so low, he wondered if he and Sissy could
