“Amy, you don’t understand. They were inseparable. Preston would not leave Mick’s side. I might as well have not been there.”

When they got home from the water park, Preston was exhausted, and for the first time in years, asked if he could take a nap. Ayla took the opportunity to catch up with her sister regarding the events of the day.

“How cool is that?” Amy asked.

“Oh, beyond cool. Way past cool. I never even dreamed anything like this. They just laughed and played the entire time. It was amazing.”

“And the important question— how does he look in a swimsuit?”

“Well, come on Amy, I already know what pretty much every part of him looks like,” Ayla laughed. “But he was the sexiest dad there. By about a million miles. It’s like even his scars were strategically placed for maximum hotness. Preston asked Mick about one on his arm and he told him he got it fighting an orc. And he asked him if he knew what an orc was, and he didn’t, which Mick said was a tragedy and he said he wants to read the entire Lord of the Rings series with him and teach him about orcs and hobbits and elves.”

“When’s the big day?” Amy asked.

“It’s not like that,” Ayla insisted. “I mean, someday, maybe, hopefully, who knows? But it’s premature.”

“But if he proposed today?”

“You’re so weird,” a blushing Ayla replied.

“That’s a yes!”

“It’s not a no,” Ayla conceded.

* * *

Across town, Mick pulled into valet parking at Arroyo Place. A day in the blazing Las Vegas sun trying to keep up with the boundless energy of a six-year-old had left him exhausted.

Preston’s smile and laughter were like a drug, addictive sights and sounds he didn’t know how he’d ever lived without. They’d explored every inch of the park, riding all four waterslides, climbing all over the water-cannon-shooting pirate ship, ridden the lazy river, and battled the breakers in the wave pool. Mick knew he was in good shape, but Preston had tested the limits of his endurance. No matter how many times they plummeted down a slide, Preston always begged for “One more!” It was endless. And more fun than Mick Merryweather had had in ages. He made Ayla promise not to go again without checking with him to see if he was available.

And speaking of Ayla, Mick found her irresistible and mouth-watering in her blue one-piece.

When she first removed her wrap and he watched her move clad in just the curve-hugging blue Lycra, he shook his head in disbelief.

This was the woman he got to make love to? To fuck? Fortune had indeed smiled on him.

Seeing Ayla in a bathing suit for the first time moved Mick to recall a favorite piece of poetry, which he shared with her.

“Do you know Basho? He was a Japanese poet; he wrote a lot about Mount Fuji.”

“I… don’t think so. Should I?” Ayla asked.

“No, frankly I’d be surprised if you did. Sorry to ruin whatever impression you may have had of me, but I’m a secret nerd. Matsuo Basho is from the 1600s.”

Ayla watched Preston climb up the netting on the side of the pirate ship, braving water cannon fire as he did so.

“So what brings him to mind?”

Mick leaned in close. “Your ass.”

“You’re so bad!”

Mick recited his favorite Basho piece, from memory:

“You’re comparing my ass to a mountain?” Ayla asked.

“To the most beautiful mountain in the world!” Mick insisted. “What Basho is saying is that as majestic as Mount Fuji is, there’s something beautiful, and, to use his word, ‘intriguing’, about seeing it concealed by fog. Seeing only the fog, but knowing what lies beneath it. Your ass— your entire body, actually— strikes me the exact same way seeing you in that swimsuit. Not that I don’t want you completely naked again as soon as humanly possible, but you’re just so incredibly sexy like this. I don’t know why any other women bother.”

“You’re so silly,” Ayla replied. How was he even real?

Before long, Preston was screaming for Mick to join him in the assault on the pirate ship, bringing a temporary end to Mick and Ayla’s flirting, but not to their fun in the sun.