“What about this one?” Biyen asked, holding up a LEGO creation.

“Buddy, you have to make these decisions yourself. If you want to keep it, you can put it on the shelf. If you’re ready to take it apart, it goes in the bin.” She was trying to make up the guest bed. Why did she always grab the wrong corner of a fitted sheet? It was like a gift.

“But what if Cooper breaks it? You said he’s little. He might not know to be careful.”

“If Cooper comes over to play, you’ll have the bin in your room. That’s why we’re taking it in there.”

“But what if he gets up? At night?”

“Buddy, do you think Cooper is sleeping here?” She pointed at the bed.

Biyen’s distinct dark brows quirked in a quizzical way. He’d been doing it since he was a baby and it always made her want to laugh with joy.

“Yes?” he hazarded.

“No.” She shook her head. “Logan will be sleeping here.”

“Logan Fraser?” Biyen stood taller, as if even at his age, the Fraser name had the ability to put him at attention.

At that moment, the knob on the door at the bottom of the stairs gave its distinctive squeak-clunk. The stair treads began croaking under a heavy step.

This homestead had started as a two-room cabin with a cellar dug by hand, one that had been accessed through a trapdoor in the floor back in the day. When children had come along, the enterprising family had added a second floor. The stairs were accessed through a door beside the one that led onto the back porch. A small octagonal window illuminated the railed landing between the two bedrooms up here.

Around 1950, electricity had arrived with indoor plumbing. A stove and a refrigerator had been added, too. That’s when the kitchen had been moved and a fourth bedroom had been added downstairs. That one was over a proper concrete basement, but the original cellar was still in the floor under the kitchen table. Biyen liked to play there in the summer sometimes.

Sophie’s mother had made further updates while running the house as a B and B, giving it a new roof and proper insulation. Gramps continued to take care of small repairs like leveling a door or replacing a rotting post on the porch. The house was seaworthy, in his words, despite its noises of complaint.

Logan arrived in the open doorway. He wore shorts and a T-shirt and had a duffel slung over his shoulder.

“Hi.” His gaze touched her, Biyen, then skimmed the slant-ceilinged room and the plethora of toys on nearly every surface from the window ledge to the desk to the highboy dresser.

The room shrank, becoming claustrophobic. Sophie cleared her throat.

“I was just explaining to Biyen that you’re staying here so Cooper can have your bed at Storm’s house.”

“That makes way more sense.” Biyen gave himself a face-palm. “I thought Cooper was staying with us. Then he would play with my toys while I was away with Dad and that’s okay. I can share. But some of them are special.”

“Cooper and Imogen are staying with Reid and Emma and their grandma,” Sophie clarified. “Logan will be playing with any toys you leave in here.”

“I won’t break any. I promise. Is that one special?” Logan dropped his duffel to the floor and crouched while Biyen took him through the wings and mismatched wheels on his creation, explaining how it traveled back to the Triassic period.

Aside from the occasional friendly greeting at the marina when Biyen checked in with her on his walk home from school, Sophie had never seen Logan interact with her son. All her protective instincts went to high alert while she listened.

At the same time, she grew self-conscious as she finished making the bed. It was shoved into a corner so it was impossible to tuck in a sheet or plump a pillow without crawling across the mattress. Very graceful.

“You can leave these in here if you want to. I’ll be careful,” Logan said.

“Thanks!” Biyen moved to add his sculpture to the ones already at the window.

“I didn’t expect you until after dinner.” Sophie breathlessly found her feet and moved to tuck the bedspread down against the footboard.

“I was sent to invite you all to dinner. Reid’s barbecuing burgers. Emma’s mom is making some kind of salad that everyone loves. The kids are excited to meet you.” He pointed at Biyen.

“I’m a vegetarian,” Biyen said.

“I think they’ll still be excited,” Logan said matter-of-factly.

“We’ll take one of your veggie burgers.” Sophie smoothed the rooster tail on Biyen’s crown. “But why don’t we take some of your outside toys over? The ring toss, maybe.”

“And the bubble tub?”

“Sure. Wait,” she commanded as he started for the door. “Logan needs somewhere to put his stuff. Clear the desk and the night table.” She picked up the bin full of LEGO bricks and pointed. “Shelf or bin?”

His excitement at the prospect of meeting new kids overrode sentiment. Everything was unceremoniously dumped into the bin.

“Thank you,” she said to Biyen’s back as he brushed past Logan and clomped down the stairs.

“Art moved just as fast when I told him there was a barbecue waiting for him,” Logan said.

She snorted. Gramps did enjoy a free meal.

“You’ll have to come in here so I can take this to his room.” There wasn’t enough space to swing a cat on the landing, but there wasn’t enough air in this room once he stepped inside and tried to shift out of her way.

She slipped by him and shouldered into Biyen’s room, leaving the bin in a corner of the floor by his dresser.

When she came back to the door of the bedroom, Logan was studying the rest of Biyen’s keepers on the shelf.

“I kind of wanted the LEGO bin to stay in here,” he said.

“Have at ’er, champ. Biyen will be dragging me over to Emma’s in—”

“Mo-om!” The door clunked open at the bottom of the stairs. “When can we leave?”

She bit back a sigh. “I haven’t had my shower, yet,” she leaned to call down the stairs.

He made a pained noise and slammed the door.

“I’ll walk him over. You can take your time,” Logan offered.

Everything in her pumped the breaks. Nolan was forever introducing Biyen to new women. Sophie was damned careful about confusing him with her own romantic interests. Of which there were none.

Logan was definitely not that. He was a houseguest who was offering a friendly gesture. Nevertheless, “You don’t have to. I’ll only be ten minutes.”

The door squeaked and Biyen’s steps clomp, clomp, clomped up to the top of the stairs.

“Mom,” he panted. “Gramps is putting the toys in his Gator. I’m going to ride over with him.”

“Okay. Did you get your burger from the freezer?”