Commander in Chief Page 47

I ease back to look at him. “You’re kissing me with your eyes,” I whisper.

“To hell with it. My mouth is jealous.” He laughs.

He grabs my face and kisses me. It’s a quick, dry kiss, PG-13 rated rather than a triple-X kiss, but Matty grins and raises his arms so that we’ll scoop him up. Matt scoops him up in his arm and tells Alison, “Catch him while he’s still,” and Alison is grinning as she starts clicking.

“Jack, come here, boy.” Matt whistles to Jack, and I’m shocked to see him crawl out from under the desk too.

“Oh my goodness.” I laugh now, and as Jack sits before us, we all turn to Alison’s camera lens.

Matthew’s lips are curled in a sly grin, little Matt is smirking just like his father does, and I’m blushing—still because of this man, after all these years. No, we don’t live in a fairy-tale world, but between all the bad things, there are these moments, these people, these glimpses of who we are—good. Who we love. How hard. How true. Which is why we cling to every reminder of that good to steer us back, to find the path to where we want to go. Where we deserve to be. Happy. Free. And loved.

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