AN: So, this one's long. I would apologize, but I doubt anyone would be very happy if I cut in the last scene, so… long it is!
Thanks to WalkerTRngr for her wonderful beta help!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI
Chapter 14
Sara and the Grissoms fall back into the routine established before the holidays pretty quickly – an afternoon or two at the dog park each week and some sort of outing on most Saturdays, all of which are usually followed by dinner and TV or a game. The new development is that she and Grissom usually meet up for lunch, either on Mondays or Thursdays, sometimes both, depending on if he's taking the girls to swimming or gymnastics practice, or picking them up after.
It's nice, of course it is. But… that's as far as it goes. She was kind of hoping she wouldn't need do make an actual move, but she's slowly realizing that if she wants something more out of her relationship with Grissom, she's going to have to initiate. Or at least be very obvious about what she wants.
She thought they would eventually reach a breaking point, like last time, but even though she catches him watching her surreptitiously whenever they're together, and he takes any excuse he can to touch her, however innocently, it's like he's holding himself back. They're basically back to the physical relationship they had at the beginning, years ago – minus the more sexual aspects, of course – and always end up pretty much cuddling on the couch when Sam's gone to bed during their movie nights. But it's like he needs her to take the next step.
Which she can understand. He's always been big on the self-punishment, even if he claims to no longer be a practicing catholic, and she knows he hasn't forgiven himself for leaving the way he did, even if she has.
So… making a move it is.
She still needs a little time to work up her courage – a tiny, insecure voice in the back of her mind occasionally insists that the reason he hasn't done anything about taking their relationship to the next level is that he doesn't want to – so it's early February by the time she actually broaches the subject.
It's Wednesday, and she's spent the whole afternoon with Sam, picking her up from school and going to the dog park with Hank before taking the girl home and helping her with her homework in time for dinner. Now, Sam's tucked away in bed upstairs, and they're halfway through Citizen Kane. Sara requested a bathroom break a few minutes ago, and when she sits down on the couch again, she doesn't reclaim her earlier position with her head on his shoulder, instead pulling one leg up under her to be able to face him.
"So, I was just wondering," she says lightly.
"Hmm?" Grissom glances at her, frowning at her somewhat serious stance before shifting to mirror it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, I just…" She huffs, annoyed at herself, mostly, but maybe a little bit at him. "Am I going to have to actually jump you for you to take a hint?"
He stares at her for a long moment, long enough she has time to start worrying. But then one side of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile. "It probably wouldn't hurt."
She has to laugh at that. "OK, good to know."
"I just…" He pauses, runs a hand through his hair as he tries to find the right words. "I didn't want to assume anything."
Sara gives him an unimpressed look. "You think I cuddle like this when I have movie nights with Greg?"
"No?"
"No!"
Her frustration must be obvious, because he reaches for her hand. "I'm sorry, OK? I didn't think this was just… casual, I just… I still don't understand how you could even forgive me, let me back into your life, let alone…"
"Stop," she cuts him off. "Just stop, please. We've been over all of that."
"I know." Grissom sighs. "I know! And a part of me was still hoping, but I couldn't let myself believe you would actually consider…"
"OK, well, this is me telling you that I want this. I want you, us. I know… you hurt me. Trust me, I haven't forgotten that. But… those were pretty extreme circumstances, and I don't think you would do anything like that again."
"Never." He vows immediately. "I know there's no way for me to make up for everything I put you through back then, but I can promise that I will spend every single day you're willing to give me trying."
"No." At his widened eyes, she continues, trying to explain. "If we're doing this, you have to let that go. We can't… this can't be you trying to make things up to me or convince me you're not going anywhere."
"I'm not."
"I know. I know that, and you need to know that too." Sara offers a smile. "I trust you, OK? You need to trust yourself."
He nods slowly. "I'm working on it."
"Good. Can I kiss you now? Because it's been weeks of this cuddling, and I'm only human."
Instead of answering, Grissom leans in, but lets her close the last few inches between them.
For a moment, that's all the contact there is between them, their mouths moving together hesitantly. Then he shifts a little, and she feels his hand slide around to cup her neck and change the angle, and suddenly they're really kissing, deep and heady. Sara pushes closer, needing to feel him against her, and somehow ends up straddling his lap on the couch.
When they finally break apart for air, he blinks up at her, looking completely confused as to how they ended up in the position they're in.
"OK, I know all evidence kind of points to the contrary right now," she admits, slightly breathless. "But I do want to take things slow. I don't want to rush things and mess everything up again. And I know that wasn't why things… ended, but…"
"No, I want the same thing," he assures her with a smile. "I want to… woo you."
She can't help but return the smile. "Woo, huh? And what would that entail?"
"I want to take you out to dinner. Maybe to the theater or opera. Dancing."
"You don't dance," she feels compelled to point out, but Grissom just shrugs.
"I could. If you want that."
She leans her forehead against his, just breathing for a moment. His hands slide up her back and then down again, settling lightly on her hips.
"I just want this," she breathes, a little hesitant, as if it's a secret. "Just… what we've been doing, going to the park, hanging out on the couch. But I get to kiss you when Sam's gone to bed. I don't need anything… fancy."
"I know. But at some point, I am taking you out to… I don't know, the Eiffel Tower? That's fancy, right?"
Sara laughs. "The one here or the one in Paris?"
He leans up for a kiss, just a brief, soft slide of lips. "Whichever you want."
"How about we table that idea for the moment?" she suggests. "I'm not opposed to fancy restaurants and all that stuff, but if I'm not entirely mistaken, that would mean getting your mom to babysit, and… I don't know, do we maybe want to keep things to ourselves for a little while?"
He frowns at her for a moment but then sighs. "You're probably right."
"Not… I want this to work," she assures him. "And I… God, it feels like jinxing it, just saying this, but I think it will work. We both know what we want, and we're going into this with open eyes. But… just in case we realize in a couple of days or weeks that it won't work… I don't want to lose you or Sam over this."
"No, I don't want that either," Grissom hurriedly agrees. "Sam absolutely adores you; I don't want her to get her hopes up and then be devastated if… if things don't work out, and I don't want either of you to lose that relationship."
"So, for now… this is just us," she summarizes. "And we take things slow."
"Mm-hmm." He slides a hand up her arm, raising goosebumps along the way, and around to the back of her neck. "And by slow you mean…"
Sara lets him tug her in for another long, deep kiss, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Think 'high school girlfriend with your mom in the next room'," she murmurs against his lips, and he chuckles.
"My mom's deaf," he reminds her. "I could get away with a lot while she was in the next room. Not saying I did, but I could."
"OK, good point," she acknowledges, letting out a small gasp when his mouth abandons hers to trail down the side of her throat. "So… anything you'd be OK with without a locked door between us and Sam. Which there isn't."
He groans against her skin. "Thanks for the reminder."
She laughs as she moves off him and reclaims her earlier position. "Sorry. So we're keeping things PG-13 for the time being?"
"Yeah," Grissom agrees, sounding only slightly reluctant, which is a relief, honestly – she's not the only one eager for more. He reaches for the remote before pulling her closer, and she shifts a little to get more comfortable, sliding one arm over his stomach and bunching her hand in the material of his sweatshirt. "Finish the movie?"
"Mmm."
It's a little thrilling, she has to admit, the secret dating. It's the same thing they did the first time around, of course, but for very different reasons. And, to be honest, neither of them try very hard to keep the secret except around Sam, even if it's not something they explicitly agree on.
Which Sara realizes the first time Grissom goes to breakfast with the team – minus Warrick, who has plans, and Riley, who has the night off – after a bug case keeps him at the lab all night.
"So, when's Sam's birthday party?" Catherine asks when they've settled at their regular table at Frank's.
Grissom sighs, which makes Sara laugh – he's been grumbling about the party all week. "She wants a pool party with her friends next weekend, and there are a lot of them. So, anyone who wants to spend a Saturday afternoon hanging out at the pool and maybe keeping an eye on a dozen nine-year-olds is welcome. There will be cake."
"I'm in," Nick immediately agrees. "I'll check with Warrick, but I think he said something about dinner with Tina's parents next Saturday."
"I can come too," Catherine seconds. "It's supposed to get up to eighty, a pool day sounds perfect. And I do have some experience with nine-year-old girls."
"I appreciate your expertise," Grissom says. "The four of us should be able to keep up with the kids."
"Four?" she repeats, and he glances at Sara.
"You're coming, right?"
She nods, swallowing a mouthful of coffee. "Yeah, of course."
"Perfect."
"If you're happy with the turn-out, I won't bother making up an excuse," Greg pipes in. "An afternoon with a bunch of pre-teen girls on too much sugar might actually be my idea of hell."
"Trust me," Grissom replies, tilting his coffee mug in a mock toast. "I'm right there with you."
The conversation flows back and forth as they eat their breakfast, and as soon as his food is gone, Grissom excuses himself – "I'm not used to being up for twenty-four hours anymore, and I have class at two."
"Weakling," Sara teases, earning an eyeroll. He still squeezes her shoulder on his way past, though, fingers trailing along her neck before his touch disappears.
"So how long have you been sleeping together? This time, I mean."
She looks up at Catherine's question, finding all her companions watching her with curious looks.
"We're not," she tells them honestly.
Catherine raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? Then what the hell are you doing."
"We're… taking it slow," Sara says. "Figuring things out."
Nick frowns at that. "How is that any different from what you've been doing for the past six months?"
She shrugs. "It's not, I guess. The only difference is now we make out on the couch when Sam's gone to bed."
Catherine snorts into her coffee. "Well, at least you're… not getting some, but having some adolescent make-out sessions. If that's what blows up your skirt…"
"It's just…" Sara sighs. "We want to do it right. And there's no point in bringing Sam into all of this if it just… doesn't work out."
Greg snorts. "Yeah, I'm not worried."
It's a simple statement, but it makes her smile, because she knows that Greg would be the first to call her out on it if he thought she was making a mistake.
The following Saturday, Sara is welcomed by a clear blue sky and a warm breeze when she slides open the door to the patio. A perfect day for a pool party, really.
It's a little after two and, knowing that Grissom is probably already panicking that he'll have to welcome the party guests alone at three, she takes a quick shower and dons a sundress that's not entirely her style but feels appropriate. She's not sure she's actually going in the pool, but still packs a bikini, a towel, sunscreen, and a hairbrush, along with Sam's birthday present, in a beach bag she remembers buying during some beach vacation in college and hasn't used since. On her way through the house, she grabs a towel for Hank as well and drapes it over the bag, and when she gets to the door, the dog is waiting for her.
Grissom opens the door with a slightly terrified look on his face when she gets there, but it quickly morphs into relief when he realizes it's her. "Thank God, I thought you were an early guest."
"Sorry," she chuckles as he steps back to let her in. When he's closed the door behind her, she lets Hank off the leash before glancing around. Finding no evidence of Sam, she leans up for a quick kiss. "Hi. Where's the birthday girl?"
"Outside arranging the balloons and other… party stuff," he replies with a vague wave of the hand, guiding her into the kitchen. The doorbell rings before they make it to the open sliding doors to the backyard, though, and he nudges her ahead. "Go on out, I'll get the door."
She steps out onto the wooden deck directly off the kitchen and living room, quickly spotting Sam at the other end of the backyard, getting an excited greeting by Hank. The space looks about as she would expect for a nine-year-old's birthday party. A canopy has been set up some ways from the pool, with a long table under it and pink and purple balloons tied here and there. The usual pool toys are bobbing on the water, and there's been some sort of net stretched across the middle.
"Hi, Sara!" Sam exclaims, and Sara turns her attention to the girl.
"Hey, kiddo." She crosses the deck and descends the steps down to the actual yard, rounding the pool to reach Sam and Hank. "Where do you want your present?"
Sam lights up. "On the table over there, with Dad's. Can Hank go in the pool with us?"
"Sure, I brought a towel for him," Sara says with a smile. "What's with the net?"
"Pool volleyball!"
Of course.
Voices pull their attention to the deck, where Grissom has appeared with Nick and Catherine, and Sam tugs Sara with her around the pool.
"Hi," Sam greets them with a big smile. "Thanks for coming, and for keeping Dad company."
"No problem, Sam," Nick replies with a matching smile, holding out a brightly wrapped present. "Happy birthday."
The girl accepts the gift, turning it over curiously in her hands. "Thank you."
"And one more," Catherine adds, holding out another present. "Happy birthday."
"Thanks!"
Sam darts back to put the presents with the others on the table, Hank lumbering along with her.
"Those two certainly get along," Nick notes.
"Yeah, they're thick as thieves," Grissom agrees.
As Sam rejoins them, the doorbell rings, and she shrieks happily before rushing into the house.
Grissom sighs. "And let the madness begin."
It's really not that bad, though, at least not as far as Sara's concerned. Sure, the kids are a little loud, shrieking with laughter now and then, but they stay in the pool or on the loungers set up along it or at the table down in the yard, leaving the adults to the deck, where they're shaded by a large umbrella.
"I don't know what you were so worried about," Catherine notes after an hour and a half or so, when the presents have been opened and the cake eaten. "This is practically tame compared to some of Lindsey's birthday parties."
"Yeah, this isn't as bad as I was expecting," Grissom admits. "Last year, we had her party at one of those… play places with trampolines and ball pits and slides and a million other things."
"Oh God, I can just picture you!" she exclaims with a snort.
Sara can too, and she can understand why that experience would make him cautious of birthday parties in general.
Everyone survives, though, and the kids seem happy when they're picked up by their parents later in the afternoon. More importantly, Sam seems more than happy with the day.
They linger in the backyard after the party is over, grilling burgers (veggie for Sara) and enjoying the way the day cools off after the sun sets. When Sam starts snoring lightly in her chair, almost forty-five minutes after her usual bedtime, Nick and Catherine decide it's time to call it a night.
"Some of us have work tonight," she says, shooting an amused glare Sara's way.
Grissom rouses Sam enough to send her to bed and walks Nick and Catherine to the door.
Sara props her feet up in the chair Nick just vacated, scooting down to be able to lean her head against the back of her own chair and gaze up at the dark sky.
It's a minute or two before she hears steps on the deck again. "Find any constellations?"
"Too much light pollution," she replies, not taking her eyes off the sky.
"Come on."
She looks up at him, finding an outstretched hand and a blanket folded over his other arm. Raising an eyebrow in question, she accepts his hand and lets him pull her to her feet and down the steps to the yard. He rearranges two of the loungers next to each other, making a bed of sorts, and gestures at her to take one before claiming the other and spreading the blanket over them both.
"I thought it was getting a little chilly," Grissom explains in a low voice, sliding an arm around her back and tugging her in closer.
"Mmm, this is nice," she whispers back, getting settled in with her head against his chest.
He just hums in agreement, and they simply lie there for a long moment, looking up at the few stars visible against the Las Vegas night sky.
When his hand starts trailing patterns against her back, Sara shivers a little, which has nothing to do with the slightly chilly air.
"You know the best part about this back yard?" he murmurs against her hair.
"No," she replies, voice a little shaky since his hand has strayed around to her side, sliding up lightly so his fingertips are grazing the side of her breast.
"It's not overlooked at all."
She glances around, realizing that he's right. The house is at the end of a cul de sac, with a high wooden fence surrounding the backyard. The way the loungers are arranged, they're hidden from the house by the deck, so even if Sam were to wander downstairs, she wouldn't see them, and there are no other houses visible from their spot at all.
"I hadn't thought about that," she says, shifting to look up at him. Even in the dark, she can see the fire in his eyes in the split second before he closes the distance between them.
As always, it starts out slow, soft, their mouths moving together languidly, hands exploring over clothing. Then Grissom pulls back an inch or so to look at her. "You know, this dress has been driving me absolutely crazy for hours…" he admits, toying with the hem.
"Really?" she asks, heart beating fast in her chest.
"Mm-hmm. Was that the goal?"
He slides his hand down, along the bare skin of her thigh, and she can't help the gasp that escapes her. "Not the goal, no, just… mmm… a nice bonus."
He kisses her again, nipping at her bottom lip, and when she opens for him, he pushes the dress up, his fingers rough. His hand curves around her butt for a moment, before sliding around, one finger nudging the soft cotton covering her core. Sara lets out a whimper, her own hand closing around his bicep.
"OK?" The question is whispered against her mouth.
"Uh-huh." She pulls away to breathe for a moment, eyes straying to the softly lit pool, the only light in the backyard apart from the glow from the windows. "You know…" she starts as he rubs her more insistently through her panties, sucking in a breath when a blunt nail drags over her clit through the thin material. "We are so having sex in the pool at some point."
Grissom groans at the frank statement and nudges her gently until she's on her back, hovering over her for a moment before leaning in to drop soft kisses over her shoulder and collar bone and lower. He huffs a little annoyedly when the neckline of her dress prevents further exploration, and she whines in response when his hand disappears from where she wants it the most.
His thumb brushes over her breast through her dress and bra, and then two fingers dip under the edge of the material as he raises a questioning eyebrow.
She glances around again, but there really is no way anyone can see them. And they're enveloped in soft, velvety darkness that makes everything possible. So she pushes against his touch, biting her lip as he slides the straps down her shoulder before pushing her dress and bra out of the way.
The moment his lips brush over her nipple, Sara's squeezes her eyes closed and bites back a whimper, only partially succeeding. "Shhh," he breathes against her skin, sending shivers all over her body. "Have to stay quiet."
"Mmm-hmm."
She bites down on her lip hard enough she's almost worried she'll draw blood when his hand slides back down her body, slipping inside her underwear this time. Then he pushes one long finger inside her at the same time as he pulls her nipple into his mouth, and it's too much and not nearly enough all at once.
She pulls a leg up to push back against him, tangling her fingers in his hair to hold him in place – not that he seems at all interested in moving away. He alternates between nipping, sucking, and letting his teeth graze the hardened nub, one finger working deep inside her and thumb ghosting over her clit with irregular intervals, quickly working her up right to the brink.
She'd forgotten that Grissom likes to tease, though, and just when she thinks that she's going to topple over, his thumb disappears, the movement of his finger inside her slows, and he kisses his way back up to her mouth.
The not-quite-cool evening air feels almost chilly against the wet skin on her breast, incredibly stimulating, and she arches against his hand, searching for release.
"Patience," he urges quietly. "You know it'll be worth it."
She does, of course. His teasing might have driven her half-insane on occasion – one instance when he had her begging for release for what felt like hours comes to mind. She has to admit that the orgasms – when he finally let her fall off the edge – were always mind-blowing, though.
Still, that doesn't mean she's just going to lie back patiently. Pushing against his hand, she urges him to pick up the pace again, tugging almost harshly on his hair to improve the angle of their kiss.
He growls into her mouth, kissing back hard, and adds a second finger, curling them up and making her whimper. It's not long before she's back on the edge again, even closer this time.
Sara breaks the kiss, burying her face against his throat as he pulls both fingers out of her completely, perhaps sensing that even just one more stroke would be enough. "Please, please…" she gasps against him. "Please, Gil, I need…"
"Shhhh," he shushes her, nudging her chin to the side for better access to her throat. "Soon."
She's not sure if her whimper is a response or just a reaction to the overdose of stimulation as his mouth moves south, sucking a mark into her breast right next to her nipple. As she fruitlessly tries to tug him back where she wants him, he makes his way to the other side of her breast, leaving another mark in his wake, and another.
When he finally takes her nipple in his mouth again and pushes two fingers back inside her, it doesn't take much – a few strokes, the rasp of his tongue, his thumb on her clit – and she's finally, finally soaring over the precipice and into oblivion.
When she becomes aware of her surroundings again, Grissom has pulled her bra and dress back up and cradled her against him. His hand is trailing up and down her back over the blanket, his breath warm against her forehead.
"Good?"
"Mmmmmm," she mumbles half-coherently, snuggling closer.
He chuckles, the rumbling reverberating through both of their bodies. Sara slides a hand up to rub a thumb against the stubble on the side of his cheek, and he turns his head to nip at the finger.
Laughing a little herself, she shifts even closer, throwing one leg over him, which elicits a hiss when her thigh comes in contact with his erection.
"You want me to…" she starts, trailing her hand down his stomach.
To her surprise, his hand closes around her wrist before she can reach her goal.
"No."
She pushes up a little to be able to frown at him. "No?"
"Too messy," Grissom explains with a half-shrug.
She licks her lips deliberately. "Doesn't have to be…" He squeezes his eyes closed and grinds his jaws together, and she can see the effort it takes to not just agree. "Come on…" she coaxes, leaning down to let her tongue dart out and taste the salt on the skin of his throat, feeling his pulse thrumming too fast. "Like you said – nobody can see us…"
"You know you don't… you don't have to," he says, and she can tell by his voice that he's wavering. "That's not why I…"
"I know," she assures him, claiming his mouth in a deep kiss. When she feels his grip on her wrist loosen, she quickly undoes the button and fly on his khaki shorts and slides a hand inside, rubbing him lightly through his boxers. "I want to."
"How am I supposed to say no to that?" he groans, his head slumping back against the lounger.
"You're not." Sara smirks, throwing the blanket off both of them. "You need to help me out a bit, though."
She tugs a little on his shorts and he obediently lifts his hips, allowing her to pull them down to mid-thigh, and then pushes his boxers down himself.
She doesn't just dive right in there, instead stretching out alongside him for a moment, pulling him in for a kiss and letting her hand trail back down. She keeps her touch light at first, just getting reacquainted with the feel and shape of him.
When his hips jerk a little into her hand, though, she breaks the kiss and pushes him down flat on his back. She can feel his eyes on her as she moves down his body, tightening her grip around him a little as she leans in for a first taste, just swirling her tongue around the head.
Grissom hisses and his hips jerk a little. "Sorry, sorry," he immediately apologizes.
"It's OK," she tells him, throwing him a smile.
"It's just… been a while."
She hesitates for a moment, because she's not sure she really wants to know, but… "How long?"
His eyes lock with hers. "You know how long."
The implications are evident, and she has to move up for a kiss before getting back to business.
The first slide of her lips and then tongue over him is accompanied by a string of expletives, and his hand tangling roughly in her hair. Sara takes him a little deeper before pulling off. "Quiet, remember?"
"Fuck, Sara," he groans.
"If I could do it, I'm sure you can too," she half-challenges, maintaining eye contact as she wraps her mouth around him again, sliding down as far as she can.
To his credit, he does keep the groans and semi-coherent ramblings as she works him with her mouth and hand low enough she's sure nothing carries to the neighbors, at least for the first few minutes. When he goes completely silent, she can't help but glance up to find he has the back of his hand pressed hard against his mouth. It's definitely a confidence-boost, that he doesn't trust himself to keep quiet, and she returns to the task at hand with renewed fervor.
The tightening of his fingers in her hair warns her he's getting close, and she hollows her cheeks out, sucking hard for a moment until he erupts. She swallows everything down before releasing him.
"Fuck," Grissom gets out breathlessly, pulling her close. "I forgot how fucking amazing you are at that."
She's always loved the way he curses when they have sex – it's almost the only time she's heard it.
"Good to know I've still got it," she quips, tucking him back in his boxers. He pulls the shorts back up but doesn't bother with the fly or button yet. She reaches behind her for the blanket and spreads it over them again.
"You haven't been… practicing?" he asks, voice carefully neutral, and she knows he's anything but.
Pulling back enough to meet his eyes, she reaches out to run a finger across his lips. "You know I haven't."
His eyes darken a little at that, and he leans in to brush his lips against hers lightly.
"You know I wouldn't have… I was half expecting to get back to Vegas and find out you had been swept off your feet by some… dashing detective or lawyer," he mumbles, not quite meeting her eyes.
Sara settles back in with her head against his chest. "I probably would have considered dating eventually," she admits. "Or let Greg talk me into it. But I've never been good at the whole social thing, you know that."
"That makes two of us."
She hesitates for a moment, because he did more or less tell her, but…
"So, there wasn't anyone, back in Williamstown? I know you said it's… been a while, but…"
"No," Grissom cuts her off gently, arm wrapping more tightly around her. "I couldn't even… no."
Remembering her conversation with Maddie's dad a while back, she decides to have a little fun. "And nobody in Vegas? I heard you were… popular among the single moms in Sam's class."
He freezes against her for a moment. "Where on earth did you hear that?" The barely concealed shock in his voice makes her chuckle as she pulls away a little to be able to look at him.
"Maddie's dad might have mentioned something," she admits. "Back when I watched the girls, remember? His wife was… honestly, I almost thought she was trying to figure out if I was her competition or something, which seemed strange considering her husband was right there, but then he explained that one of her friends apparently had her… sights set on you as her next husband."
"I…" he splutters a little. "I have no… who?"
Casting her mind back, she replies, "I think he said her name was… Anita?"
If possible, his eyebrows furrow even more. "Bailey's mom? I've barely said two words to the woman!"
"Sometimes, that's all it takes," Sara teases. "Maddie's dad said he'd talked to you about it."
He shakes his head incredulously. "I honestly have no recollection of that whatsoever."
Smiling at his complete obliviousness, she settles back down against him. "So I don't have to compete with any single mothers?"
"You don't have to compete with anyone. You never did."