Chapter 7
Tuck
We get the car loaded, and I slide into the driver’s seat as Maria climbs into the passenger seat.
She’s nibbling her bottom lip, eyes flicking to me like she’s wrestling with some secret thought.
My chest tightens. Has she changed her mind about hooking up again?
Honestly…maybe it’s for the best if she has.
She buckles in beside me, and I back out of the driveway, careful not to scratch the tires on the curb.
“Thanks for coming tonight to help,” I say, trying to sound casual.
Honestly, I can’t believe they’re all staying over.
What happened to me keeping my distance?
But how could I let the poor kitten go back to the shelter and possible euthanasia?
I couldn’t and now I have to be careful not to get invested in the boys’ lives.
She turns toward me fully. “It’s the least we can do. You’re homing a cat for my boys. Who does something like that?”
“It’s fine. Big house for one person,” I reply.
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll like the company.
I’d always thought about getting a dog. I think I might be more of a dog person, but…
how fair is it to the dog when I’m on the road all the time?
I realize Dani runs the dog kennel. I could easily board it with her.
But it just doesn’t seem right.” As I consider that my throat tightens, words catching.
“I wouldn’t want to fail it by not being the owner it needed, you know? ”
Her gaze flicks to me, intense and unreadable, like she’s sifting through every thought I haven’t said out loud. “Cats are aloof. They don’t need as much as dogs do.”
I clear my throat and continue, forcing the words out. “That’s right, and this way, I get a pet in my home, and he’ll be loved by your boys. No guilt. No—”
“Failure,” she interrupts softly.
“Right,” I mumble, and she goes quiet, facing forward. For a heartbeat, I let the silence stretch.
“Did you bring your books?” I ask, changing the subject.
She nods. “Yeah. I have to do some reading before tomorrow night.”
“You take night classes?”
“Tuesday and Thursday nights.”
“That’s exhausting,” I say with a laugh.
She shakes her head. “It is, and yet…I’ve taken on a cat.”
“You don’t have to do anything to take care of the cat, Maria. I told you I’d help, and this is the best way I know how.”
Her smile is small, warm, grateful, and then she opens her mouth like she’s about to say something and…stops. She closes it again, her fingers linking.
I lean just slightly toward her. “Second thoughts, huh? You and me?”
Her gaze snaps back to mine. “How…” She takes a breath, like she’s weighing her words. “Josh said something…about me being single and you being single…and asked if I thought you were ugly.”
I let out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking my head. “That’s some brilliant matchmaking logic, right there.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t look away. And in that small, loaded pause, the air between us feels thicker. There’s the echo of the past—what we shouldn’t have done, what we shouldn’t do again.
“We can’t let him—”
“I know,” I cut in, rubbing at the scruff on my face. “Back at the rink, Josh said something about you not thinking I was ugly. I got the impression he liked the idea of us being together. Like…a couple.”
She exhales sharply, the sound carrying a mix of surprise and worry. “Yeah. I got that too.”
“It’s going to be okay. We’re not going to do or say anything to let him… you… me… anything.” Under my breath, I add, “I’m not what they need.”
“Right,” she says, but I catch it—just for a second—there’s a curious spark in her eyes before she blinks it away. That’s when I know it. I’ve said too much.
We drive in silence for a stretch, each lost in our own thoughts. The quiet hum of the tires on the pavement fills the space between us. Ten minutes later, I pull into my driveway. Maria leans forward, peering at the house with a small whistle.
“Wow. This really is a big house for one person.”
“Two now that I have Marbles,” I reply, a little grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.
I put the car into park, and she unbuckles. “That poor kitten is going to get lost.”
She steps out and heads for the trunk. I follow her and hand her my keys. “Go on inside. I’ll bring in the bags.”
The keys jingle on the ring as she hurries up the walkway and slips through the front door. I follow with the groceries and her overnight bag, my boots echoing lightly against the hardwood floor.
Inside, she’s wandering through the living room, taking in the sparse furniture and bare walls. I set her bag down. “I’ll just put the groceries in the kitchen and then show you upstairs.”
“You have enough bedrooms for all of us?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Plenty. Just a bed, no decorations though.”
“We don’t need much,” she replies with a shrug.
I pause, watching her, and for a moment I think about how much I like that about Maria—how she’s content with the bare minimum.
But then my chest tightens. After everything she’s been through, leaving so much of her life, her belongings, behind when she fled with her boys and her mom, she deserves more.
I’d like to give her more, but once again, I remind myself, I’m not the guy for this family.
She slowly walks around my living room, her gaze sweeping across the space, and I stand still.
Seeing her in my space…I don’t know, it’s oddly comforting.
It makes the place feel less lonely. I step toward the kitchen to drop off the groceries, but my steps feel hesitant, like I don’t want to break the spell of her presence.
When I return to the living room, I find her in my library. She’s running her hands along the dark mahogany shelves, eyes wide.
“This is gorgeous,” she says, voice soft with wonder. “This room is bigger than my whole apartment.” She places her hands lightly against her chest, lashes fluttering playfully. “I feel like Belle.”
I can’t resist. “Does that make me the Beast?”
Her grin is mischievous. “If you ask Stella, I’m sure she’d say yes.”
I mock-shiver and laugh as she pulls a chair up to the desk. The room looks like it was made for her, all warm light and the promise of quiet moments. “You need to fill these bookshelves.”
“I don’t have a lot of time to read. I wish I did. I used to love it when I was a kid.”
“I wish I had time for more leisurely reading too.”
“Be right back,” I call, heading to the car for the kitten supplies. I carry them inside, glancing around like a man who’s utterly clueless where anything belongs. I drop the items near the door, deciding the logistics are up to the boys. It’s their cat, not mine.
No snuggles.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the company.
“How long have you lived here?” Maria calls out from the library, voice echoing slightly.
“Six years,” I answer.
“You don’t have a single picture on the walls,” she says, a note of curiosity threading through her voice.
I shrug, smiling faintly. “Never felt the need.”
“What about pictures of you and your sister?”
“She sent me a bunch of photos when I moved away. I’m sure she thought I’d get them framed but I’m too ugly to be showcased on a wall,” I joke and I’m instantly rewarded with a big laugh.
“True,” she agrees playfully and when her laugh dies, she eyes me. “Those probably aren’t even your real teeth. You pop them out for pictures?”
“Of course. Ugly. When I commit to something, I really commit.”
She swallows, like my words have shifted, become less about my smile and more about me not wanting a future with her. That’s not really the case, but I’m not bringing up the future, and the reason I can’t give her more.
“Well,” she finally says. “I think these walls could use some memories. A house only becomes a home once the walls are adorned with pictures.”
“How about I get a picture of Marbles framed.” I jerk my head to the side. “Want me to show you around?”
She nods and hurries toward me. I step aside, but our bodies brush. A quick, sharp inhale escapes both of us. Goddammit, this tension is going to be the end of me. I lead her around the main level, showing her the living spaces, and her eyes go wide when she spots the kitchen.
“I can’t wait to cook in this kitchen,” she says, her voice full of excitement.
“Me too,” I joke, trying to hide how nice it feels to see her light up. “Want to see downstairs?” Yes, it’s true. I might be putting off showing her the bedrooms, because I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have her in a bed beneath me.
“Absolutely.”
We head down, and I give her a tour of the games room: a big screen TV, pinball machine, pool table, a small bar, along with numerous comfy chairs and a sofa. She shakes her head and lets out a sigh, like the space is over the top, and I guess it is.
“You don’t like my man cave?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Her gaze sweeps the room. “It’s not that.”
I walk over to the bar, open it, and check what I’ve got inside. “Glass of wine?”
“I’d love one, actually,” she replies. “It’s been a crazy day.”
I pull out a bottle of white, hold it up, and she nods. I open it, pour her a glass, then grab a beer for myself, cracking it with a satisfying hiss. She takes a sip and sets it on the coffee table.
“What is it then?” I ask.
She chuckles, the sound soft and musical. “The problem is, once the boys see this, you’re never going to get rid of them.”
I laugh. “When they’re here taking care of Marbles, they’re free to use this space.”
She picks up a pool cue, running her fingers along it as she eyes the balls set up on the table.
“You play?” I take a swig of my beer, as she eyes the table.
“I have,” she says casually, but there’s a gleam in her eyes that suggests she’s holding something back.
“Any good?” I press, leaning casually against the table.
“Maybe,” she says with a little wink. “Maybe not.”
“Want a game? So I can find out for myself?”
“Sure. Do you have a coin, so we can flip for the break?”