Page 40 of Promise Me a Forever Texas Love

“Well, thanks for sharing some with me.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced around. “So where are the stairs going to be?”

He set down the basket and pointed to the corner by the trunk. “They’ll come up right there. I thought I’d make a spiral staircase that encircles the trunk and leads to the door. I found this really pretty piece of maple that I thought I’d make the door out of and maybe some shutters for the windows so Cam can close them if he wants privacy. I wasn’t going to put actual glass panes in, but I am going to leave a big space in the roof for a skylight so he can look at the sky and the stars. The plans I got off the internet didn’t include a skylight, but I figure I can look up a YouTube video and figure out—” He cut off when he realized he was rambling like a fool. “Sorry, I guess I get as excited about tree houses as Cam.”

“No, you get excited about building things. Which is why you’re so good at it.”

He laughed. “I’m not that good, Cadee. Anyone could build a kid’s tree house.”

She tipped her head. “So you still do it.”

“Do what?”

“Act like your talents aren’t special.”

If ever he was thankful for his loud stomach, it was that uncomfortable moment. The growling stopped those intense blue eyes from staring straight through him as she laughed.

“I think we need to feed Henry.” She sat down and started pulling out more food than he thought one basket could hold. Ham and cheese sandwiches, plastic containers of potato salad, pickles, carrots, and strawberries.

And a huge baggie of his favorite cookies.

Seeing her lay out the food with such care on a floral dishtowel brought back memories of her doing the same thing at school. She’d bring him extra sandwiches and chips and apples and cookies and set them all out on the cafeteria table like it wasn’t a big deal. But to a kid who had never had someone take such care to make sure he didn’t go hungry, it was a big deal.

Rosie Hennessy had never cared whether her kids got fed or not. She bought groceries, usually frozen dinners or pizza, but it was up to them to prepare it. If she forgot something at the store, they went without. It wasn’t until Jaxon got old enough to take over the grocery shopping that they always had the main staples kids needed like cereal, bread, peanut butter, and milk.

Daddy was the complete opposite. He treated mealtimes like a performance with him as the main attraction. But he was rarely there to cook for them. He was like a celebrity chef that was entertaining but not someone you could count on to keep you from starving.

But Cadee was someone you could count on.

She always had been.

“Is something wrong?”

At her question, he realized he was standing there staring at her with a dopey look on his face. But who wouldn’t look dopey when they looked at Cadee?

A messy bun sat on top of her head, dark, loose tendrils framing a face he knew as well as his own. Big blue eyes. Freckle-covered nose. Soft, rosebud mouth. He’d missed the familiar features so much it had been like a dull toothache. Being with her again, relieved that ache . . . but now he had another more intense ache.

One he had to ignore.

It was too much food, but he put a big dent in it. After the fourth snickerdoodle, he had to call it quits. He stretched out on his back and placed his hands on his full belly.

“Well, you’ve finally done it, Cadee Stockton. You’ve shut Henry up for good.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

He chuckled as he stared up at the branches overhead. “You’re probably right. You better leave a sandwich and the rest of those cookies in case he comes out of hibernation.”

“I’ll leave all the leftovers.” She started closing containers. “Just put the basket by the door when you go.”

He should let her go back to the house. He had never had good willpower when he came to things he really wanted. He wanted Cadee. Especially after the porch kiss. But that didn’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

“Stay for a while.”

He waited for some excuse why she needed to get back to the house, but instead, once she finished closing the containers and putting them back in the basket, she stretched out next to him.

“Cam is going to love this. It’s not as cool as the treeboat, but a lot less dangerous.”

He smiled. “I knew you loved the treeboat.”