When I go back to the room, Wren is changing Chase’s diaper. The smell is awful. “Here, let me do that,” I say as I usher Anna and Devon into the room.

“I can do it,” Wren says. “Though I had no idea such a little guy could make so much poop.”

Chase wiggles his naked legs and smiles up at Wren.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” she says as she tickles the bottoms of his feet. He kicks, still smiling.

“You better cover that thing up,” I warn. “Or he’s going to–”

Wren squeals and jerks her head back, but it’s too late, because Chase just peed right in her eye. She holds one eye shut and stares at me. I rush to get her a towel.

“I tried to warn you,” I say. I pat the side of her face.

“I didn’t know he could shoot a stream like that. It was like a geyser.”

“Right in your face.” I try to look as serious as possible, but it’s hard.

Finally, she laughs. And it’s not a little snicker. It’s a full-out belly laugh. She laughs so hard that her cheeks turn red and she can’t catch her breath.

“Is she okay?” Anna asks. She puts herself behind my leg.

“It’s like he has his own fire hose,” Wren says over a snicker.

“I’m so sorry that happened,” I say as I pat the hair dry at her temple. I catch myself grinning.

“It’s not like you peed on me, Mick.” Her eyes meet mine. Then she turns to Anna and Devon. “Did you guys have fun?”

They start to tell her about their swim as she finishes diapering Chase. Then she points to her head. “I think I should probably wash the pee from my hair. It’s not very sexy.”

“What does sexy mean?” Devon asks.

Wren stops. “Um…”

“It means funny and smart,” I say. “People who are funny and smart are really sexy.”

“Wren is really sexy,” Anna tosses out.

I look at her. “Yes, she really is,” I say quietly.

“I’m sexy too!” Devon says.

“You sure are,” Wren says. Then she leans down to kiss his forehead. But he squeals and cries out.

“You have baby pee on your face. Don’t kiss me!” Then he laughs and runs away from her.

“You can either get in the shower right now and wash the chlorine off you, or I’m coming to kiss you. I might even rub my hair all over you.” She makes a move like she’s going to chase him, and he squeals and runs into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. She ruffles Anna’s hair. “You can use the shower in the other bathroom, kiddo.”

“The kids can wait. I’m sure you want to wash the pee out of your hair.” I snicker. I can’t help it. It’s funny.

Wren crosses to her small suitcase and gets out a bottle of travel shampoo. “I can do mine in the sink. We should probably get on the road.”

“If you’re sure…” I say. But she’s already moving toward the sink carrying one of the extra towels she asked for last night.

“It’ll only take a second,” she says.

She bends over the sink, her long dark hair falling in waves against the porcelain. She uses the sprayer to wet it.

“Here,” I say. “Let me help.” I set Chase in his bouncy seat and go to her.

“I can do it,” she protests.

I step up behind her, my left leg against the back of her right leg. She instantly freezes. “Chase peed on you and it’s at least partially my fault, so let me help you. This doesn’t look like a very comfortable position you’re in.”

I take the sprayer and wet her hair as she blocks the water from running into her eyes with her hands. “Thank you,” she says.

“Sure thing,” I grunt out.

She holds out the bottle, and I pour a little shampoo into my hands. Then I start to work it into her hair. She lets out a little sound of pleasure.

“Did you say something?” I ask, stopping for a moment.

“No,” she squeaks. Then she clears her throat and says, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I think we should probably have a talk about earlier,” I say quietly as I rinse her hair.

“Do we have to?” she asks, her voice nasally from being flipped over.

I rinse her hair, taking a lot longer than it should take, just because I like being close to her. I like doing these intimate little tasks. I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.

I hand her a towel and she wraps her head like a turban, and stands up. She’s not wearing any makeup and her hair is in a towel, but I’ve never thought she was prettier, not even the night she dressed up for my work party.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she suddenly blurts out.

I brush back a damp lock of hair that has fallen across her forehead. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I was an ass, and I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Do you know that I’ve never even kissed you?” I whisper, looking from her eyes to her nose to her lips.

“You’ve kissed me lots of times,” she retorts.

“I’ve kissed you on the forehead, and I’ve kissed you on the cheek, and I think I kissed the corner of your mouth one time, but I’ve never kissed you. Not really.”

“Oh,” she says.

I wrap my arm around her waist and jerk her to me so fast she lets out a startled breath. Her palms land flat on my chest to steady her. “I think we should change that.” I kiss her softly on her cheek.

“I think I’d like that.”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “I would too.”

My lips hover over hers and she sucks in a breath. Then she steps onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. I freeze. I stare into her startled, untrusting gaze, and then I slide a hand up the back of her neck and hold her tightly. The towel she wrapped around her head falls to the floor, so I palm the back of her head, tilt my face, and kiss her.

Her lips are soft and warm, and they’re a little shocked, but she softens under me, and her arms slip around my shoulders. She holds me tightly as she kisses me back. Her mouth parts on a whimper, and I slide my tongue inside, tentative at first, but her tongue meets mine and…

“Eww, gross,” I hear from behind me. I close the kiss, lift my mouth from hers, and rub my nose up and down the side of her nose as I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.

“They’re right behind me, aren’t they?” I whisper.

Wren looks over my shoulder. “Yep.”

“Are you two, like, boyfriend and girlfriend now?” Anna asks.

I open my mouth to say no, but Wren says, “Yes.” She holds my hand tightly as I step back. “Yes, we are.” She looks up at me with a question in her eyes. “We are, aren’t we?” I see the uncertainty written all over her face.

“We are,” I say. We abso-fucking-lutely are. “You two get your stuff together so we can get it loaded in the car, okay?” They run around the corner, only to run right back, both of them holding their noses. “What’s wrong?” I ask, although I can already guess.

“Roxy has a poopy diaper,” Devon says, still holding his nose.

“I’ll get it,” I say, but as I move to walk away, Wren tugs the fingers she’s still holding and pulls me back to her. She steps up onto her tiptoes and kisses me quickly and softly.

“I want to be really honest with you, so I want you to know that you can ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth. Anything at all,” she says.

“Okay…” I’m a little confused.

“I just want to be sure you know what I’m thinking. I’m going to be more direct about my feelings.” Her face flushes. “Well, a little less direct than climbing into a shower with you naked. But still…”

“I want to say something really inappropriate but it might be too soon.” I bite my lips together.

“What is it?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

“Well, now it’s important, because I’m going to wonder what it is.”

I step closer to her and stare down into her face. “When you climbed into the shower with me…”

“Yes?”

“I really liked the bush.”

Her brow furrows. “What bush?”

I look down toward her lap and back up. “That bush. No landing strip. No naked skin. Perfect.”

Her cheeks grow rosy. “Oh, well, that’s good to know.”

I press my lips against hers. “I just wanted you to know in case you were thinking about shaving it off before I get you naked again. You know, prepping for the big day.”

“And…you…don’t want me to prep…that.” She points down with her index finger.

“Fuck, no,” I growl against her lips. “It’s perfect, just like the rest of you.” I kiss her again and then I go to change a diaper. Or two. Or four. Hell, I can’t remember my own name, much less who has a poopy diaper.

As I walk out of the room, I see Wren sink back to lean against the counter, as though her knees have gone weak. I’m glad I’m not the only one.