“Can I use it tomorrow?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with hope.
“We’ll see,” I grumble. “Please let everyone know it’s almost bedtime.”
“It’s only ten o’clock.”
“The little ones need to go down soon,” I argue.
“Ugh,” she groans as she stomps off into the living room.
Powering my phone off, I lay it on the table. I’ll text Vick back tomorrow. After I chug the remainder of my beer and toss it in the bin, Connor finally turns around, his mouth in a pressed flat line. He crosses his arms over his massive chest and opens his mouth to speak, but J.J. and Mary-Anne rush into the kitchen whining.
“We don’t want to go to bed!”
“It’s late,” I point out.
“Will you guys sleep with us?” J.J. asks as he looks at me and then at Connor. Connor is smiling when his gaze meets mine.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been part of a sleepover. Pallets on the living room floor?” he asks me and my eyes widen. He’s willing to sleep on the floor?
“Uh . . .”
“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” McKenzie interjects as she reenters the kitchen.
“Fine,” I grumble as I shake my head. “Mark can have the master bedroom, and you can take the guest room. J.J., Mary-Anne, Grayson, Connor, and I will sleep on the living room floor.”
“Yay!” J.J. and Mary-Anne squeal in unison.
After I scrounge up every spare pillow and blanket I can find, the kids and I make our beds for the night while Connor showers. By the time he walks in the living room, the kids and I are snuggled in watching the muted television. He’s shirtless, again, and wearing a pair of black basketball shorts. In the dark room, with only the light from the television illuminating him, he looks bigger and if possible, sexier. Before I handed my room over to Mark, I changed into a pair of pajama shorts and a white V-neck T-shirt that used to be Blake’s. I look like a bum.
Connor places his hands on his hips and stares down at us while I seemingly stare up at him, but really I’m looking at his abs. Blake never had abs. He was a thin man; no weight or mass to him. He wasn’t able to exert himself too much physically with his heart condition. But I still found him incredibly sexy. A different kind of sexy than Connor. Blake had a gentle look to him while Connor looks hard; rugged. Internally, I cringe. Why am I comparing Blake to Connor? Ugh!
“Looks comfortable,” Connor laughs.
“Oh, it is,” I jest. He lies down beside Grayson, who’s furthest from me. The kids are stacked between us and silence falls. It isn’t long before the kids stop the little wiggles and shimmies they’ve been making, and when I look over at them, I see Grayson curled up on Connor’s chest, fast asleep. Connor’s hands are behind his head, and his chin is to his chest as he looks at Grayson. If my heart wasn’t already melted, the faint smile on Connor’s face would finish the job. I watch him for what seems like an hour, even after his breathing seems to slow, his chest rising and falling slowly indicating he’s asleep. I can’t help wonder if he ever slept well in prison. I can’t imagine it would be easy sleeping in the heat and sharing a tent with other men. This floor is ungodly uncomfortable, but it’s worth it. Clicking off the television, I close my eyes, hoping I’ll get enough rest to make it through a full day of the Tuffman children.