...Part of me was a little embarrassed about how I’d acted at his apartment. As soon as he’d mentioned ice cream, I’d turned into some kid who was never allowed treats. But honestly, I’ve spent a lot of my life denying myself what I wanted. In high school, I had to watch what I ate and work out like a maniac to keep my place on the varsity football team. In college, I could have rattled off half a dozen missed opportunities for dates at any one time. Since Ellie’s death, I’d put all my personal desires on the back burner to focus on Sam. The thought of having ice cream—my favorite food in the whole world—before dinner, without reason to celebrate or anything like that made me, well…giddy.

Hence, the embarrassment.

I wanted to make up for it. I had this overwhelming urge to prove to Peter I was a good father. Parenting obviously meant a great deal to him, especially in light of his custody agreement, and if our kids were going to spend a lot of time together—something that seemed inevitable at this point—I wanted him to respect me.

Seeing him smile was just an added bonus. Albeit, a secret one.

The distant ring of the phone drifted from downstairs.

“I’ll be back in five minutes to make sure you’re still working,” I warned Sam.

He nodded without looking up at me. Guiltily, I jogged down the hall and took the stairs two at a time to get to the phone in time.

“Hi, Aaron?” Peter’s voice was instantly recognizable, but he still helpfully introduced himself. “It’s Peter, uh, Irving.”

I grinned, in spite of myself. Funny that he’d call when I’d just been thinking of him. Not that I’d tell him that, of course.

“What’s up?”

“I feel really bad about this, but Morgan isn’t going to be able to come over tomorrow.”

Stiffening, my eyes automatically went to the stairs and the sounds of Sam still tidying up. “Why?” I fought to keep my voice neutral. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Christina’s sister dropped into town unexpectedly with her kids. They picked Morgan up this afternoon. He hasn’t seen his cousins in a few months, so…”

No. No, no, no, this wasn’t happening. Sam was going to be devastated. Saturday was all he’d talked about all week, and now Morgan was going to be gone for two more weeks. My first instinct was to ask Peter for his ex’s phone number, but just as my mouth opened, I realized how awful that was going to sound. Peter hated having to give his son back. And to have to forfeit even more of that time?

This sucked for Peter even more than it did for Sam.

“I’m sorry.” I hope he could hear that I meant it. “Sam’s going to be disappointed. We were looking forward to tomorrow.”

“I know. Trust me, he’s not the only one. I promised him we’d reschedule, though.”

“Do you get some of this time back?”

“She’s going to bring him back two weeks from tonight, rather than Sunday.” Peter sighed softly. “So maybe we can reschedule for that Saturday?”

“Sure, sure, that works.” I’d make it work. “What are you going to do this weekend now?”

“I don’t know. Polish off the ice cream and fall asleep in front of the television, I guess.”

“You mean, my ice cream? You weren’t going to keep that all to yourself, were you?”

Peter’s chuckle was a welcome, albeit soft, sound. “I’ll think of you while I’m eating it. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re still not sharing.”

“It’ll go bad if I leave it in the fridge for two weeks,” Peter pointed out. “Also, ice cream never lasts that long around here.”

“From the way you’re talking, it won’t even last the weekend.” My gaze fell upon the TV on the wall, and before I knew it, I was saying, “Bring it over here anyway. Tonight. We can find something to watch after Sam goes to bed.”

“I…it won’t be too much trouble?”

“Only if you don’t bring the ice cream.”

“I will definitely bring the ice cream. I need to do a few things first. Is an hour good?”

“Yeah, that’ll be good. It’ll give me time to break it to Sam.” I chuckled. “Though I might wait until he’s finished cleaning his room before I say anything.”

“You’re a diabolical genius. I like that.”