Page 49 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

“Are we really this lame?”

“Pfft. Lame? Speak for yourself. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m a movie star with a pretty badass penis, so I’m cool no matter what I get up to at night.”

She yawns. “Yeah. I should get to bed. I partiedsohard.” She rolls her eyes.

Goddammit, I want her to get in bed with me. But not now. She’s right. When the kids aren’t here. When we can really be in bed together. Is that what she means? She stands up.

“I’ll make breakfast tomorrow so you can sleep in,” I tell her. “If you want to.”

“You sure? Did you get any sleep yet?”

I shake my head. “I will now, though.”

She smiles, so sweetly. She’s probably blushing. I wonder if she’s still wet for me, because I could be completely hard for her in three seconds.

But not now. She’s right.

“Good night,” she whispers.

Fuck it.

Before she reaches the door, I’m blocking it and my hands are up in her hair and I’m kissing her—not on the cheek, not with the intensity of earlier tonight… I’m kissing her to let her know that I’m glad she came back and I can’t wait until tomorrow to kiss her again. She’s surprised and relieved and responsive. Her hands press against my chest—not pushing me away but leaning into me. Her head falls back so I can kiss her neck and all over her beautiful clean face. “Good night,” I whisper, kissing her on the mouth one last time.

Her eyes are still closed and she’s swaying a little when I reach for the door handle to open it.

She bites her lower lip, opens her eyes, and punches my bicep on her way out.

“Badass,” she whispers.

“Damn straight.”

I stand by the door until she’s downstairs and I’ve heard the door to her room close shut, and then I check on the kids before getting back into bed.

My alarm’s set for six and I’ll sleep soundly until then, knowing that everyone is home where they belong.

“Who’sready for more pancakes? Chocolate chip this time.” This is my third batch of pancakes thismorning. First batch was plain and a little burned. Second batch was blueberry and fucking awesome. This one is weird-looking but with chocolate chips, so who cares.

“Meee!” Maple syrup is dripping from Summer’s mouth. She always claims that she’s still hungry after I’ve cooked a meal, but I’m going to win this breakfast. It might take a few hours to clean this mess, but my breakfast game is strong this morning.

Lucky barely raises his left hand, elbow on the table, like an old drunk guy ordering another bourbon. Meanwhile he can barely lift his fork to get the turkey sausage and scrambled eggs into his mouth because he’s so full.

I’ve been keeping myself busy cooking every breakfast item I can cook, to keep from sneaking into Willa’s room and crawling between her legs. That counts as good parenting, right? It’s after eight, and she’s still not up yet. Is she in the shower? Should I check?

“Can we watchPokémon?” Summer asks as she reaches for the remote for the kitchen TV.

“Pikachu!”

“You guys are watchingPokémonnow? When’d that happen?”

“Willa showed us it. It’s fun. And weird. Like Willa,” my daughter says while turning on the TV before waiting for permission.

“Yeah? What’s the show about?”

The twins start explaining something about Ash and Pikachu and adventures, but I don’t really hear a word they’re saying because Willa has just walked in wearing a casual, loose-fitting dress that hits above the knee, with bare legs and bare feet and her hair is wet. The birthday party doesn’t start until eleven, but I’m wondering if wecan drop the twins off a couple of hours early. Is that wrong?

She just smiles at me from across the room and kisses the twins on their heads as they keep talking.

Should I make coffee?she mouths to me.