Page 207 of The Path to Loving Him
I turn to Ryland again. “Where did I sleep?”
He chuckles and then takes my hand, pulling me into his chest. “She slept with me last night, Mac.”
Mac’s eyes flit between the two of us, her little head processing what’s going on. “I don’t understand.”
Ryland squats down to her eye level and places his hands on her hips. “You know how Uncle Hayes and Aunt Hattie are in love?” Mac nods. “And how Aunt Aubree and Uncle Wyatt are in love?” Mac nods again. “Well, Gabby and I are in love.” Hearing him say that sends such a warm thrill through me.
“Oh, so you’re like married?” Her cute little nose twists to the side.
“Not yet, but we are . . . uh . . . in terms you can understand, boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Um, can we pause for a second because did you hear what he said about the married thing?
Not . . . yet.
Cue the girly screams.
She looks back and forth between us again. “Do you kiss?”
Ryland clears his throat and nods. “Yes, we kiss.”
She then looks at me with a quirk to her nose. “You like kissing him?”
I don’t know why that makes me laugh, but it does. I squat down with Ryland and put my arm over his back. “Yes, I like kissing him.”
When she doesn’t say anything, Ryland says, “Is this okay?”
Mac shrugs. “I don’t care.” But the small smile she gives makes me so happy inside.
Ryland chuckles. “Are you sure? Because I’d like to have Gabby around more, but if you don’t?—”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Mac jumps up and down. “She can play with me.”
“Yes, she can play with you,” Ryland says.
“She’s the best player.” Mac runs into my arms, nearly tackling me to the ground, but I balance myself and hug her back.
“I don’t know, I think you’re the best player,” I say.
“Uh, am I chopped liver over here? I was pretty confident that I was the best player. No one can top . . . Godzilla Plus,” Ryland says in a deep voice and puts his claws out.
Mac screams and runs away. “Come on, Gabby. Godzilla Plus is going to eat us.”
“Never,” I yell, grabbing a pillow from the couch—a genuinely nice throw pillow—and tossing it at his head. When it hits him, he dramatically spins around, sticks his tongue out, and then falls to the ground with a thump.
I raise my fist in the air and say, “Huh-ha! I got him.”
“Her,” Mac corrects me. “You got her.”
“Right, sorry.” I air pump again and say, “I got her!”
“Now we can eat all the pancakes we want.”
I lift Mac up into my arms and step over a convulsing Ryland, who is really playing the part.
“Pancakes for the heroes of the day.”
“You know, I was thinking about something,” Ryland says as his finger traces circles over my leg.
