Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(55)

“You can train dogs to search by trails, scents that are on the ground or in the air particles left behind all around us. We’ve somewhat mastered the first but haven’t started on the second,” I explained.

“Looks pretty damn impressive to me.”

Yeti took a wrong turn, likely distracted by an older Owen scent. But it wasn’t long before she corrected and found the trail I’d left minutes ago. A few seconds later, she let out three sharp barks.

I grinned. “That’s her alert that she’s found our missing victim.”

Crossing to Yeti, I gave her an enthusiastic rubdown and a treat for her efforts. “Va jouer.”

“What’s that command?” Dex asked.

Yeti bounded through the yard in answer.

“Go play,” I said, chuckling as she rolled in the grass.

I picked up the pajama shirt and headed toward Dex.

“Pretty damn impressive.”

The grit coating his voice sent pleasant shivers across my skin, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking up into those shadowy eyes. “We try.”

Dex searched my face, his hand lifting and fingers ghosting beneath my eyes. “You’ve got shadows.”

I swallowed, my throat catching on the action as his fingers stilled on my face. I wanted to soak in the feel of that connection, the warmth and rough realness embedded in the tips of his fingers. “Not my best night,” I whispered.

His expression transformed then—to the familiar scowl that made me want to laugh now. Because I knew what was behind it. Caring. I’d never met someone who got so cranky for the best of reasons.

“Mr. Dex, why do you look like you’re sucking on a lemon?” a new voice cut in.

I startled away from Dex at the sound of my son’s presence, turning to find him standing on the back deck in robot pajamas, his glasses askew.

Yeti raced toward her best friend, elated at his presence as Dex searched for the right words.

“Your mom didn’t get enough sleep,” he finally answered honestly.

Owen’s green gaze turned to me. “Uh-oh, big trouble.” He glanced back at Dex. “You gonna ground her? One night, I stayed up playing my video game, and she grounded me.”

Dex’s lips twitched. “I’m definitely thinking about it.”

I made a sound of protest.

Dex just arched a brow. “I think it’s fair. Can’t have you crashing on us.”

It was my turn to scowl. “Maybe I’m gonna ground you.”

“What’s the cause?”

Being too damn gorgeous too early in the morning was what I wanted to say. “Interference in morning training” was what I reached for instead. Pathetically.

A grin tugged at Dex’s lips. “You asked me to interfere.”

“Only after you butted in.”

“You welcomed that butting.”

“You’re the worst,” I grumbled.

“Only because you’re the worstest.”

“What are you two talking about?” Owen cut in.

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

Dex changed the subject. “How about I make you guys breakfast?”

Surprise sparked through me. “You cook?”

He looked a little insulted at my doubt. “I’ll have you know that my great-uncle Waylon is an amazing cook, so I learned from the best. I might not do it often, but I have the skills.”

One corner of my mouth tugged up. “What do you think, O? Should we risk our stomachs and let Dex make us breakfast?”

A huge grin broke out over Owen’s face. “Definitely. If it’s bad, we can just feed it to Yeti.”

Dex’s jaw dropped. “You doubt me?”

Owen giggled. “I gotta taste-test first.”

“Fair enough. Give me two minutes, and I’ll be back. Hellion, you got flour, eggs, and milk?”

“I do.” My smile tugged wider. “I also have the number for poison control.”

Dex made a motion like he’d just been stabbed in the heart. “You two are brutal.”

“The brutalest,” Owen called as Dex headed back for his place.

“Come on, team. In we go,” I ordered Owen and Yeti.

We filed back into the house, and I coaxed Owen into getting dressed and brushing his teeth as he peppered me with questions about Dex. None of which I had the answer to.

It was bizarre how I only knew a handful of things about the man, yet I felt more seen by him than anyone else in years. It was as if we saw through to the core of each other, to what made us who we were. The rest of us didn’t matter.

An alarm bell rang in my head as a warning of DANGER flashed. I shoved it down. Dex hadn’t made a single move in my direction, so worrying that I might feel a pull too strongly in his was silly. Breakfast, especially after what had happened yesterday, was just a simple kindness.

A knock sounded on the front door.

“I’ve got it!” Owen yelled, tearing out of the bathroom and leaving the water running.

“Do not open that door,” I warned as I shut off the water and righted his toothpaste.

“We know it’s him,” Owen said, exasperation filling his voice.

I started toward the door. “We do not know, and until we are one hundred percent certain, doors do not open in this house.”