Page 45 of Tempted By the Single Dad Mechanic
"And we're going to make s'mores?"
"So many s'mores," Morgan promises.
Riley grins, gap-toothed and beautiful. She's six now, in first grade, reading chapter books and asking questions about everything under the sun.
And she has a mom.
Not officially. Morgan and I aren't married, though I've been carrying a ring around for the past three months trying to figure out the right time to ask, but in every way that matters.
When Riley has nightmares, she runs to Morgan's side of the bed. When she needs help with homework, she asks Morgan first. When she wants to talk about feelings or friends or anything important, she curls up next to Morgan on the couch and spills everything.
Morgan stepped into the role without hesitation, without complaint, and watching them together fills me with happiness.
"Okay," Morgan says, ruffling Riley's hair. "If we're going to make it to Cedar Falls by tonight, we need to get moving. Riley, go get dressed. Casey, start loading the car. I'll make breakfast."
"Pancakes?" Riley asks hopefully.
"It's not even Wednesday," I point out.
"It's TRIP day," Riley counters. "Trip day pancakes are allowed."
Morgan laughs. "Trip day pancakes it is."
Riley cheers and scrambles off the bed, racing back to her room.
I pull Morgan close one more time. "Have I told you lately that you're amazing?"
"You mentioned it once or twice."
"Well, it bears repeating."
She kisses me quickly. "Come on. We've got a road trip to start."
By nine-fifteen, only slightly behind schedule, we're loaded up and ready to go.
The car is packed with suitcases, the cooler, Riley's requested stuffed animals (I managed to negotiate her down to three), and enough snacks to survive a zombie apocalypse.
Riley is buckled into her booster seat in the back, already asking if we're there yet even though we haven't left the driveway.
Morgan is in the passenger seat, Annie's journal on her lap. She's been documenting our trips for the past two years: the places we've gone, the things we've seen, the memories we've made.
Continuing what she and Annie started but making it her own.
Making it ours.
I back out of the driveway and head toward the highway, and Riley immediately launches into a song she learned at school.
"Louder, Riley," Morgan encourages, and I groan.
"You're going to regret that in about an hour."
"Worth it."
We drive through Blackwater Falls, past Murphy's Diner—Murphy himself is outside, sweeping the sidewalk, and he waves when he sees us—past the shop, past the park where Riley plays every weekend.
This town has become home in a way no place ever was. It's where I built a life, where I learned to trust again, where I found Morgan.
As we hit the highway, Morgan reaches over and takes my hand.
