Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
KAYA
The past few days have been a whirlwind. Full of ups and downs. Joy and chaos. A strange blend of predestination and uncertainty, thrill and horror. Each moment made me breathless. Some had me fearful. Others made my pulse throb in my ears.
But they all served as a reminder of how fortunate I am.
I still get to wake up next to a man I care for deeply. Still get to see Tucker’s smile, hear his laughter—although both are rare since the incident with Brianna. Still get to make memories with two people I never expected to enter my life, but I am glad they did.
Since the showdown at the train yard, Ray, Tucker, and I haven’t spent a moment apart.
Although it pained him, Ray asked for the week off during the final days of cooking classes. André didn’t blink at the request and told Ray to come back when he was ready.
I reached out to the rec center, gave them an abbreviated version of what happened, and requested a week off. Since summer camp is almost over, they told me to focus on myself, Ray and Tucker and preparing for the new school year.
Again, beyond fortunate.
In the days since the incident, we’ve had time to talk—with each other and a therapist. Spilled our hurt and exposed our wounds. Allowed ourselves to be vulnerable in an unprecedented way. In doing so, we’ve also strengthened our bond and made each other a safe space.
“Spatula.” Ray tugs open a drawer then closes it just as quickly. “Where do you keep your spatula, Fire Eyes?”
When I mentioned needing to come home for clothes yesterday, Ray made the outlandish suggestion we stay at my place for the night. From our first date, all at-home events were at Ray’s place. I’ve never been opposed to time at my house, I just wanted Tucker comfortable, and that meant him being surrounded by familiarity.
I opened my mouth to tell Ray my house was crampy and not as entertaining or enjoyable as his home. But I was cut off by an enthusiastic Tucker who thought a sleepover at my house would be fun. Couch forts and junk food. Board games and a little playful rivalry.
I didn’t have it in my heart to open my mouth and question Tucker’s zeal. The last thing I wanted was to stifle an ounce of his happiness.
Months from his tenth birthday, Tucker’s already endured more than most two or three times his age. I can’t help but wonder if his superficial gaiety is a defense mechanism.
Unless Tucker gives me reason to worry, I shut off my psychologist brain and let him express himself however he chooses.
“Erm…” Gaze on the fruit I’m cutting, I wince.
In two swift strides, Ray crowds me at the counter. Inches impossibly close. Dips his chin and trails the tip of his nose along my jawline, the heat of his breath like velvet on my skin.
I suck in a shaky breath.
A harsh clang echoes through the room as the knife falls from my hand to the cutting board. Sparks dance under my skin as his fingertips graze my bare arm, my collarbone, the hollow of my throat. Eyes rolling back, I melt into his touch. He nips then kisses the angle of my jaw, and it’s an instant jolt to my heart. Ache blooms low in my belly a beat before arousal pools between my thighs. His talented fingers thread through my hair at the nape of my neck, curl into a loose fist, and tug.
Breath hot on my lips, erection thick and hard against my hip, his fiery gaze brands my soul. Lost in his riveting umber eyes, the world disappears.
He is all I see, all I feel, all I want.
Nose to nose, gazes locked, his lips ghost mine. “Tell me you have a spatula, Fire Eyes.”
What?
I blink several times, confused. “Huh?”
“Cooking implement used to scoop and flip food,” he says, tone teasing as his brows lift. “Flipper. Turner. Inverter.” The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights a smile. “Often used for pancakes, burgers, fish, omelets.” Humor dances in his eyes as he bites his bottom lip.
The urge to laugh bubbles to the surface, but I resist long enough to tease him in return.
Brows scrunched, I purse my lips and stare at him with mock confusion. “Inverter?” I look up and to the left, pretending to think. “Like the box for my solar panels?”
His head jerks back as lines mar his forehead. “Uh, no.” He pinches my side and I squeal. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Fire Eyes.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “Sorry.” Lifting a hand, I wiggle my fingers next to my head. “All the kissing and stroking and teasing jumbled things up.” I bat my lashes. “The spatula is in that drawer.” Pointing across the kitchen, I add, “I think. Don’t cook much for myself.”
Ray drops a chaste kiss on my lips, pushes off the counter, and walks backward until he reaches the drawer. He opens it, looks down, then smiles as he digs out the barely used spatula. Pointing it at me, he says, “So what I’m hearing is you need more cooking… lessons.”
Heat hits my cheeks and I duck my chin. “Suppose I do.” I pick up the knife and get back to work on the fruit.
As Ray pours the last batch of pancakes into the pan, Tucker shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He mutters, “Good morning,” then sidles up to Ray at the stove.
Tucker woke up twice in the night. The first time, in a cold sweat as he gasped to catch his breath. The second time, Ray had to wake him. Tucker twisted in the sheets and kept muttering that he wanted to go home. When Ray finally woke him, he was disoriented and asked what happened. More than an hour of snuggles and countless whispered assurances, Ray lulled him back to sleep.
Either Tucker doesn’t remember, or he forces himself to forget.
Ray asks me to get drinks while he assembles his famous pancake charcuterie board loaded with fruit, bacon, and a few other things he found in my cabinets. When he sets it in the middle of my small dining table, I gape at how he made something so simple look extravagant—especially with my limited kitchen supplies and ingredients. Thank goodness he brought a handful of things from his place.
“What would you like to do today?” Ray asks then shoves a loaded fork in his mouth.
Tucker says he wants to hang out with his friend from the skate park.
Ray’s lips flatten into a grimace for a split second and I’m glad Tucker’s too busy trying to spear a blueberry to notice. After a deep breath, Ray nods. “Sure, bud.”
He won’t admit it, but Ray will have Tucker in his sight the entire time. A habit for the foreseeable future. When school starts in a month, Ray will struggle. Tucker will, too, just not in the same way. But thankfully, I’ll be able to check in with Tucker’s teacher often and relay updates.
“Yes!” Tucker does a fist pump. “I miss Jordan.”
Ray ruffles Tucker’s hair. “I bet they miss you, too.”
A buzz interrupts us, and I glance toward the living room to see a new notification on my phone. Deciding whoever it is can wait, I load my fork with another bite and listen to Tucker’s skateboarding stories. He’s in the middle of telling me about the time he scraped the underside of his chin when my phone buzzes again.
“Sorry.” I wince, wipe my hands and mouth with a napkin, and retrieve my phone.
Anaana
Checking in. How are you? How are Tucker and Ray?
Bring them by for dinner on Sunday. I’d like to formally meet them.
It’s been days since I messaged my family and said I was out with Ray and Tucker. Respectful of my wishes, they didn’t pry. Help was offered without questions or opinions.
But now the dust has somewhat settled. And my family meeting Ray and Tucker is imminent.
“Everything okay?”
I glance up from my phone and am met with Ray’s curious, concerned gaze. I nod. “My mom’s checking in. Asked how we’re doing.”
Ray tilts his head and studies the lines of my face with more interest.
I nibble my bottom lip. “And she suggested I bring you to dinner on Sunday.”
Ray’s eyes flare, the corners of his mouth tugging up the slightest bit. “Tucker and I would love to join your family for dinner, wouldn’t we, bud?”
“Mm-hmm,” he mumbles around the food in his mouth, his head bobbing.
My stomach flips and churns. “Great,” I say with zero enthusiasm.
Thunderous laughter fills the room as Ray shakes his head. “What’s the matter, Fire Eyes? You look a little pale.”
My lips flatten into a straight line. “Shush, you.” I turn my attention back to my phone and type.
We’re good. Taking it one day at a time. We’ll see everyone on Sunday.
I stare at the delivered status below my message for far too long. By the time I look up, Tucker is no longer at the table, his plate taken to the sink. Ray studies every inch of my face while he masks his own emotions.
“Why are you worried?” he finally asks.
Setting my phone down, I reach for his hand and take it when he meets me halfway. I let the rough yet gentle brush of his calloused fingers on my skin soothe me as I fumble over my thoughts.
“I’m not worried.”
His brows shoot up, his eyes wide. A silent “Really?” heavy in the air between us.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then meet his apprehensive gaze on the exhale. Strengthening my grip on him, I lean across the table, duck my head, and kiss the back of his hand. “Promise.” I kiss his knuckles. “I’m not worried.”
The wood legs of his chair protest as he scoots closer. “Then what is it?” His knee bumps mine under the table. A second later, his other hand is on my thigh.
The answer repeats in my head and sounds childish. But my heart knows Ray will empathize. After all, his family spent more than a decade playing matchmaker for his sister with one of the Seven.
“I’ve never introduced anyone to my family,” I confess in a rush. “Let alone two people.”
The corners of his eyes soften as his mouth curves into a compassionate smile. “Me either. Well, except for you. But that wasn’t planned.”
My eyes widen in shock as I lower my voice. “Your parents didn’t meet Brianna?”
He shakes his head. “We started dating shortly before I graduated culinary school—if you call getting drunk and hanging out often dating.” He winces. “Things weren’t serious until she was pregnant. Even then, it was touch and go.”
“They never met after Tucker was born?”
Lips pursed, he shakes his head again. “When they visited, Brianna made excuses to leave. It was… uncomfortable.”
Wow.
“Makes me a little less queasy about bringing you to Sunday dinner,” I say and laugh without humor.
“If it makes you uneasy, we don’t have to go.”
I’d be a fool to miss the disappointment in his voice. “No.” I squeeze his hand. “I want you to meet them. It’s just…”
When I don’t continue, Ray cups my cheek. “Just what, Fire Eyes?”
I wince. “My family is much larger than yours. And they’ll probably ask… embarrassing questions.”
Ray lifts his other hand to frame my face, his thumbs slowly caressing the apples of my cheeks. “I can’t wait to answer every single one of them.”
“You’re sure?”
He closes the distance between us and presses his lips to mine. “Only if you promise you’re still mine afterward.”
The backs of my eyes sting as emotion pools in my mouth. “I promise.”