Chapter 20 #2
“He was nice,” I admit cautiously. “But with school, the boys, and work…I just don’t have time for a relationship. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”
She arches one eyebrow, lips curling. “Right. But you do have time for sex.”
Oh. My. Freaking. God.
“Mom—” I gulp, heat rising to my cheeks.
She picks up the potato masher as if she hadn’t just casually mentioned my sex life. “These need a little more butter,” she says, pressing down on the potatoes, eyes twinkling at me. “Are you okay?”
I stare, mouth slightly open. “You just said—”
She winks, leaning in just enough to make my heart skip. “I think you two make a cute couple.”
“We’re not a couple.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she teases, turning the masher in her hands with perfect confidence. “If you’re not a couple, what are you doing?”
“I…”
“Just playing house?”
“I…Mom, it’s not what you think. This…what you see…”
“When you get to be my age, you’re able to see things with far more clarity, darling,” she says, voice softening, wise and knowing all at once.
“He doesn’t…he isn’t interested…” I let my words fall off, now unsure of what he wants, based on the way he’s been acting. God, I am so confused.
“Are you interested?”
My heart lurches. If that isn’t the question of the century? I steal a glance at Tuck, lost in conversation with Grant, his profile lit by the kitchen lights.
I blink rapidly against the rush of emotions pressing at the back of my eyes. “Mom,” I whisper, quietly, almost vulnerable.
Her hand brushes mine. “These things…” she says gently, “…have a way of working themselves out, sweetheart.”
“Mom, did you…the kitten…was this all a set-up?” I ask, trying not to let my suspicion—and my rising heartbeat—show too much.
Mom presses a hand to her chest, eyes wide and innocent. “I would never…”
Maybe she would never. But that doesn’t mean Grant wouldn’t. And knowing them, she could just be playing along, letting him run the show while she watches with that smug little smile of hers.
I shake my head, trying to focus. “Now…why don’t we put that pie back into the oven to keep it warm,” she suggests, politely putting an end to the conversation.
I nod, sliding the pie carefully into the oven. Steam curls around me, the smell delicious, but my mind is elsewhere. Mom and Grant start carrying dishes to the dining room table, chattering away like nothing untoward is happening.
Then his voice cuts through, “What can I do to help?”
I turn, and just like that, the air shifts. He’s inches from me, heat radiating off him, that familiar, dangerous energy that makes my insides melt and tighten all at once. My stomach does a little flip-flop.
To answer Mom’s question…yes.
I do want him.
In my life. In my boys’ lives.
Tuck tilts his head, studying me. “Hey…you okay?”
“I am.” I smooth a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to act casual. But when his finger brushes lightly against my hip, pressing just enough to make my breath hitch, I realize casual is impossible right now. “I just…think Mom and Grant were matchmaking.”
A small, amused chuckle rumbles from him. “You know, back at the rink during family skate, I had a feeling they were up to something. When they asked me to drive the boys home, it just felt like a trap.”
I scoop the mashed potatoes into a serving dish, still trying to focus. “Wow…so they’ve really planned this out.”
Tuck pulls a serving spoon from the drawer, dropping it into the dish, and leans closer than necessary. His voice drops. “Apparently. So…what do you think, Maria? Should we plan some kind of payback?”
I tap my chin playfully, before adding the Brussels sprouts to another bowl, and he automatically joins in the preparation, sliding a spoon in, like we’re a team. My cheeks warm at the thought. Honestly, I never realized how good we are together in the kitchen.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I know how good we are in the kitchen.
“That could be fun,” I admit, smiling. He laughs softly, eyes glinting, and I blurt out the first ridiculous thing that pops into my head.
“We could tell them their efforts were wasted because you’re already married…
maybe to someone back in Nova Scotia.” I know that’s not true.
I might not know a whole lot about him or his past, but I do know he’s not like my ex.
And honestly, maybe my past is still haunting me, considering my thoughts went straight to him having another family.
Tuck waves a hand between us like he’s dismissing the absurdity of that—and it really is absurd—then grabs another serving dish for me.
“Or…we could say we were already secretly married. Remember when you caught the bouquet at Roman and Gabby’s wedding, when Rip was officiating and he jokingly offered to marry us? ”
I laugh, shaking my head, remembering the tension that had practically crackled through the air that day. God, when did I become so readable? “Yeah, that would shock them, wouldn’t it?”
“We could tell them it was a shotgun wedding because you were pregnant.”
I glance down at my stomach, chuckling. “Tuck, that was over a year ago. Don’t you think I’d be showing by now?”
We both laugh, and the sound mingles with the clatter of dishes and the low hum of conversation in the dining room.
“Of course we can’t do any of that,” I add, still grinning.
He shakes his head, playful, mock-serious. “No, of course not.”
“But it’s fun to think about,” I add.
“Yeah, real fun.”
Then Grant’s voice cuts through the bubble of our private little world. “Am I interrupting something here?”
We both spin to see him leaning in the doorway, a smirk plastered across his face. I inch back slightly, trying to appear innocent. “Nope. Can you grab the Brussels sprouts, Grant?”
“Sure thing.”
Tuck catches my eye, a slow, knowing smile creeping across his face. I can feel the spark between us, even as the room fills with family chatter.
I reach for the carrots. “Let’s do this.”
We gather the rest of the dishes, carrying them carefully into the dining room.
The table is already set, candles flickering faintly, the smell of roast beef and buttery potatoes filling the room.
As we place the last dish on the table, everyone begins to settle into their seats, the boys squabbling quietly over who sits where.
And that’s when I notice it—the look on Tuck’s face.
Longing. Comfort. Something that might remind him of home. There’s desire there too—an almost tangible want, like he’s quietly mapping out a place for us all here, with him.
“Tuck,” I ask gently, lowering my voice. “Did you have big family dinners at home?”
He nods, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “We did. And that reminds me,” he continues, his eyes lighting up. “My sister Kate is coming to visit soon.”
Kate…
Kate is his sister.
Ah…
“Really? That will be so nice for you, Tuck.” My heart twinges slightly at the thought, a question forming in my mind. Does he want us out when she’s here? I hesitate, the words slipping out before I can stop myself. “We’ll clear out before she comes.”
“Why do we have to go, Mom?” Josh pipes up, his voice indignant.
“You don’t.” Tuck’s response is immediate, firm, almost protective. All heads turn toward him. “I mean, there’s plenty of room for everyone here. And I already asked her if she’s allergic to cats. She’s not.”
He already checked with her?
Josh snorts. “Good. I can’t wait to meet Aunt Kate. I bet she’s going to tell me all kinds of stories about you when you were a kid, Tuck.”
He groans softly, and I catch the subtle way Mom is watching me, her eyes twinkling knowingly.
Some things just have a way of working themselves out.
“Tuck,” Josh starts again, helping himself to a generous slice of roast beef. “Can you help me with my homework tonight? I hate geometry.”
I open my mouth, ready to interject, to tell Josh that Tuck has an away game to prepare for, but Tuck beats me to it.
“Of course, kiddo,” he says smoothly. “I was pretty good at geometry. It’s been a while, but I think I can figure it out.” He reaches for the bowl of carrots, and I catch the gleam in his eyes. He likes this, he likes helping out, being needed.
Josh beams at him, completely delighted, and my chest tightens with something deeper than gratitude.
“You could have asked me,” I say, feigning indignation as my heart canters in my chest.
“Yeah right,” he shoots back with a laugh.
I cock my head. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good at geometry.”
Tuck’s hand lands on mine. “You have your own studying to do. He doesn’t want to take that away from you. Isn’t that right, Josh?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Plus I don’t really think you’re that good at geometry.”
Despite myself I laugh. We all do. Out of the mouth of babes.
“It’s okay, Maria. I’ve got this.”
I nod my pulse pounding. God, I love the way he steps up for my boys. Love that he doesn’t hesitate to open his home, to share his time, his patience, his quiet strength.
Honestly, I really love…Tuck.