Chapter 5
Tuck
“I’ll do it.”
Did those words really just leave my lips?
Silence hits for half a beat. Then Josh explodes. He actually jumps. Both feet off the ground. Like I just told him Christmas came early and brought a Stanley Cup with it. Grant claps me on the back hard enough to rattle my teeth, and Lucas lets out a victorious whoop.
So yeah.
I must have said them.
I must also be having some kind of neurological episode because what the hell am I doing?
“Tuck, you’re the best,” Josh beams, already reaching for the kitten. “What should we call him?”
I shake my head, incredulous, and murmur, “How about Marbles? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve lost mine.”
Lucas bursts out laughing. “Marbles. I like it. If he ever gets loose, Tuck, you can run around the neighborhood screaming, ‘help, I lost my marbles.’”
Everyone laughs.
Everyone except Maria.
She’s not laughing.
She’s looking at me like I just stepped off a ledge.
“Tuck,” she says quietly, and her voice cuts through the chaos like a blade through tape. “What are you doing?”
Good question.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Because the truth, I have no idea.
Grant jumps in before I can self-destruct. “He’s making your boys happy,” he says easily. “And helping Elena and me out.”
Elena sneezes again, eyes watery, nose pink as she presses a tissue to her face. “Are you really going to call him Marbles?” she asks between sniffles.
“I’m not sure that’s my call,” I mutter. “Not my cat.”
Maybe this is a mistake. But then I see Josh is cradling the kitten like it’s treasure, like it’s something precious and breakable and his. My heart does this stupid, inconvenient flip when he grins down at the little furball.
“Do you know anything about taking care of a cat?” I ask the boys, because I definitely do not.
Lucas waves his phone. “That’s what Google is for.”
Grant ticks things off on his fingers. “Food. Water. Litter box. Toys. Scratching post. Snuggles.”
“Snuggles?” I repeat.
“We’ll snuggle him, Tuck,” Josh promises earnestly. “You won’t have to.”
Grant jerks his chin toward the door. “He’s up on his vaccinations, and I’ve got some food in the car to get you started. But you’ll probably want to stop at the store on the way home.”
Home.
With a cat.
Panic rises fast. I live alone. I’m on the road half the year. I have no business bringing a cat into my life.
“I don’t know… anything,” I admit, the words quieter now. Real. A warm hand settles on my forearm.
Maria.
I look down at her fingers against my skin. Small. Steady. Supportive.
“You can change your mind,” she says gently. Not accusing. Not pushing. Just…giving me an out. And for half a second, I consider it. I really do. Then Josh lets out a delighted squeal and I glance over just in time to see Marbles enthusiastically licking his cheek.
“His tongue is so scratchy,” Josh giggles, scrunching his nose but not pulling away.
The sound hits me square in the chest. That joy. That uncomplicated, wholehearted happiness. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anything like that. I exhale slowly.
“I don’t think that’s an option,” I tell Maria.
She gives me a tight nod. Because she knows too. She doesn’t want to break their hearts any more than I do.
“I’ll help,” she says quickly, stepping closer. “And when you’re away, I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. I’ll bring the boys back and forth. I won’t let them take over your house.”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “I mean…it’s okay if they stay with Marbles. You can stay too.”
What are you doing, dude?
I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know and I need to shut this down now.
“I have lots of room,” I say instead, like I’m no longer in control of my brain. “You can easily find a quiet place to…” I catch myself before I say study. That’s our little secret. “…read.”
She angles her head, the warmth and appreciation on her face hitting me square in the chest. “Tuck,” she begins quietly.
“I have a whole library that’s empty. Feel free to use it. Really, the house sits empty when I’m gone. I have a big executive kitchen that never gets used. I know you like cooking.”
Jesus, do not think about her in your kitchen.
She swallows, and it’s crazy how much I like the idea of her in my house when I’ve been trying so hard to avoid her.
“I mean, I could really use the quiet to…read.” A gust of air rushes in as Grant leaves to get the cat food.
“The boys will be busy with Marbles, and...” The second that name leaves my mouth, I lose it. “Why is it so hard to say Marbles with a straight face?”
“Because it’s ridiculous,” Maria says without missing a beat as she laughs with me.
“Okay,” I murmur, looking at her a second longer than I should. “Good to know I’m not the only one who thinks that.”
Her smile softens. Warms. And somewhere between Josh’s giggles, Elena’s sniffles, Grant hauling cat food in from the car, and Lucas googling “how often do kittens poop,” I realize something terrifying.
This doesn’t feel like just taking in a cat.
It feels like stepping into something bigger.
Messier. Louder. Full of scratchy tongues and ridiculous names and boys who look at me like I hung the moon.
And Maria, standing close enough that I can feel her warmth.
I’ve definitely lost my marbles. But for the first time in a long time? I’m not entirely sure I want them back. “I guess we’d better hit up a pet store.”
Maria gives me a little nudge. “Okay, go finish eating, and I’ll tidy up the kitchen. Josh take that kitten upstairs and keep him there out of the café until we’re ready to go.”
As I head back to the table and slide into the booth across from Nicklas, Maria flips the sign on the door and sees Grant and her mom out. The boys thunder up the stairs like a herd of caffeinated elephants while she disappears into the kitchen.
I dig into my chowder. It’s cooler now, but still damn near religious.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” Nicklas says, shaking his head, half impressed, half horrified.
“Trust me,” I mutter. “Neither can I.”
He studies me like I just volunteered to donate a major organ, then turns his attention to the one dinner roll left on the plate. “Are you going to eat that?”
His hand makes a grab for my roll and I slap it away. “Touch it and lose it.”
He grins. “Wow. Possessive.” He continues to grin at me.
I glare back. “What?”
“You must really like her.”
I take a bite of bread, chew slowly, stare at him. “Really like who?”
He snorts. “Oh yeah. That’s convincing. Say that again but blink more.”
I turn my attention to my chowder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t. You just went full white-knight the second she so much as blinked.”
“Why don’t you fuck off and finish your chowder.”
“For what it’s worth,” he says, leaning back. “I think she likes you too.”
“What part of fuck off don’t you understand?”
He laughs, entirely too pleased with himself. “Relax. I’m just saying. There’s nothing wrong with you playing house.”
“I am not playing house.”
“Dude, you practically offered to braid her hair.”
I glare at him. “I did not—”
“You had the energy.”
I point my spoon at him. “You are exhausting.”
“Now you sound like Stella.” He laughs. “All I’m saying,” he continues, completely ignoring me. “Is that no woman is ever going to have me pussy whipped. I’m sticking with the bunnies. Clear expectations. They want one thing. I generously provide that one thing.”
“Generously,” I repeat flatly.
“I’m a giver.”
“You’re a public health announcement.”
He shrugs. “You do you. I’ll do me. Or, more accurately, I’ll do the bunnies.”
I shake my head and go back to my chowder. “That reminds me. When my sister comes to visit.” His eyes light up in a way I deeply dislike. “I don’t want you within a fifty-foot radius of her.”
He grins wider. “If she looks anything like you, then I’m not interested.”
I shake my head. “Not you too.”
We both turn to our own thoughts as we eat and he damn well better not be thinking about meeting my sister. We finish our chowder, and he pushes to his feet, tossing his napkin onto the table.
“Gotta bounce,” he says. “Enjoy your new…pussy.”
Jesus. “Goodbye, Nicklas.”
He backs toward the door, laughing. “Call me when you register for matching bathrobes.”
I flip him off as he leaves. Knowing the boys are anxious to get Marbles settled, and wanting to help Maria, I push to my feet, gather up our bowls and take them to the kitchen.
I find Maria at the sink, back to me, hair spilling down between her shoulder blades. Music hums softly from a nearby speaker, something low and sultry, and her hips sway almost absently with the rhythm.
I stop.
Just…stop.
It’s the smallest movement, barely there, but it does something to me. Something dangerous. My body tightens, heat sliding low and slow through my veins.
She must feel me watching because she turns suddenly.
Her breath catches.
“Tuck,” she says, almost a whisper.
“I…uh…brought our dishes. I…sorry.” My voice is rough, aroused. “I didn’t mean—”
“I could have…you don’t have to help.” She swallows, and holds her hand out. I stare at it, unsure. Is she gesturing me closer? Does she want me to touch her as much as I want to do it?
“The dishes,” she finally says.
My gaze snaps to hers, my brain firing once again. “Right.” I cross the small space and our fingers touch as she takes the dishes from me. She turns the water on and rinses the bowls before putting them in the dishwasher.
Everything we did in this kitchen, every touch, every kiss…the way she sat on the counter, legs spread while I buried my cock in her, races through my mind.
Leave the kitchen, dude.
Instead, I step close and when she straightens, her back now against my chest, she takes in a quick breath but doesn’t move. I lower my head, my mouth near her ear. Her light floral scent fills my senses, and when I move her hair from her neck, her little gasp wraps around my dick and strokes hard.
“Maria,” I murmur.
“Tuck,” she begins. “We…can’t.”
“I know.” I wait a beat, hoping she’s going to pull away because I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. Her body goes a bit slack and I wrap one arm around her, anchoring her to me.
I exhale and she shivers as my breath falls over her skin. “Oh God,” she whispers, my lips lightly grazing that spot on her neck that drives her a little crazy.
She reaches back, her palm on my outer thighs, and before I can stop myself, I spin her around. Dark lashes flutter over darker eyes as she tilts her head, her lips parting in invitation.
“This is a bad idea,” I say, and while we both know it, it doesn’t seem to be stopping either of us. This pull is insane, unstoppable. Fuck, maybe I just need to have her one more time. Maybe then whatever this is will burn out.
Her palm slides along my jaw, fingers dragging through the scruff there, and I close my eyes for half a second, feeling it everywhere.
When I open them, she’s on her toes.
Close.
Too close.
Fuck it.
I kiss her.
It’s not gentle. It’s not cautious. It’s months of restraint snapping in half. She makes a soft, broken sound against my mouth that undoes me completely, and I pull her closer, deepening it.
Her hands slide up my back, gripping, holding.
My pulse roars in my ears. Every nerve ending lights up at once.
I devour her, my tongue tasting, diving deep, yet unable to get enough.
Her hands race over my back, dipping under my shirt, her nails clawing at my skin and I growl into her mouth, wanting nothing more than to tear her clothes from her body and bury my cock deep inside her.
We kiss like there’s no tomorrow, like consequences don’t exist, our hands racing, reacquainting, touching with an urgency that has my brain screaming for more.
I inch back, my lips hovering, as I place my hands on her ribs, her body arching as my thumbs lightly graze her hard nipples. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been not to do this?”
“Hard, yes,” she agrees.
“Every time I fucking see you, I think about this.” I slide a hand between her legs, gently stroke her through her pants. “Think about being inside you again.”
Her breath studders as she pushes against my hand. “Me too, but…we can’t.”
“I know.” Her hands roam my chest, then one slips between our bodies as she rubs the long length of me in my jeans. “Fuck, Maria.”
“We can’t do that either,” she assures me, humor mixed with need in her eyes.
“Right.” I chuckle, grab her waist, turn her until her back is to the counter, and grind against her. Her eyes roll back.
“The boys,” she murmurs. “I can’t be careless…reckless, not with…”
She doesn’t need to finish the sentence for me to understand that this isn’t just about wanting each other. It’s about what happens after a random hook-up with a guy who isn’t serious about a relationship, or a future with a ready-made family.
Her lips find mine and she breathes into my mouth, “But I want you, Tuck. Obviously.”
My cock throbs as I push against her, and even though she doesn’t need words to know I feel the same, I still say, “I want you too.”
Jesus, what this woman does to me. How her ex didn’t see what an incredible woman she is boggles my fucking mind.
But her ex makes me think of Rowyn and how she wants to set her up with a man from her writers’ group.
Goddammit the thoughts of any other man touching her like this, her touching him, makes me want to punch something.
“Do you think…if we did it one more time, it would help?”
She lets out a quiet breath. “No,” she says, and I know she’s probably right.
“You think that’s just something people lie to themselves about?”
Her fingers curl in my shirt. “Yes.” That one-word rattles around in my brain and I’m about to pull back, to end this right now until she murmurs, “But maybe…if we both know what this is and what it isn’t, it wouldn’t hurt to find out.”
“Do you need it, Maria? Do you need me?” I have no idea why I need to hear the words.
Her eyes flutter closed for a second. “Yes. I need…”
I brush her face with the back of my hand, my eyes searching her face. “You need to do something…something just for you?”
She blinks at me, like she’s surprised I knew that. “Is that selfish?”
“You give everything you have to everyone else, never making what you need a priority. I don’t think it’s selfish to want something for yourself. Even if it is, is that so wrong?”
“Everything about this is wrong, Tuck.”
“I know, but just once maybe you can put yourself first.” I grin. “Maybe it’s time you tried something different.” I lightly run my lips over hers. “Like putting yourself on top of the priority list.”
She pokes my chest, something in her shifting right before my eyes, as she says, “I’d rather be on top of you.”