75

Twenty-Two

Sydney

I

opened the backseat door of Ford’s SUV and said to Everly, “Jump in, my little muffin.”

She climbed into her high-back booster seat and got settled. “Syd, I’m pooped.”

I laughed, adjusting her placement and securing her in, locking the seat belts in place. “That makes two of us, girlie.” I checked to make sure it was all tight. “Comfy?”

“Yep.” She yawned, and once Ford joined us in the doorway, she added, “Daddy, that hike was haaard.”

“I was trying to tire you out. Did it work?”

I knocked him on the shoulder—for Everly and for me. “It worked. We’re exhausted.”

“Exhauuusted,” Everly echoed.

I shut the door and giggled to Ford. “That kid,” I said before I went over to the other side of the SUV and climbed into the passenger seat.

Ford started up the car and pulled out of the lot. “Are we stopping for ice cream? Or are my girls too tired?”

“Ice cream!”

“We’re never too tired for that,” I told him.

His hand went to my thigh, and I watched him look into the rearview m