Neither one of us responds because for the first time since Monday, we’re alone. Sadly, the length of the dining table separates us.
“You’re so good with him.” I’ve said this before, but he needs to know how much it means to me.
He shrugs. “It wasn’t that long ago when Alex was his age. I remember some of the tricks.”
I move around the head of the table, take two steps toward him, and stop. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re making me nervous.”
His expression clouds. “Nervous? Why?”
Heat rises to my face. “You said you wanted to talk.”
The corners of his mouth turn up, but his dimples stay hidden. “And talking’s bad?”
“Well, duh,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, my nerves escalating by the second. “Everyone knows talking’s bad.”
Luc’s brows lower and he stalks toward me. When he’s in my space, he grabs me by the belt loops of my jeans. “What about talking like this?” He pulls me to him until my nose brushes his collarbone and his lips meet my ear. “Is this bad?”
He smells amazing. Clean, like cut cedar. But warm and unmistakably male. I wrap my arms around him and inhale. His arms close around me too.
“Not bad, right?” he whispers.
I shake my head. “Not bad.” I’ve kind of already forgotten how we got here, my nerves vegging out in the pheromonal glow of his body.
Rhythmic thumping overhead, the sound of Emmett on the stairs, kills the moment. I move to pull away, but Luc grabs me by the elbows and our eyes lock.
“I don’t know what it was like for you before, Millie,” he says, his gaze searching. “But talking with me won’t ever be bad.”
Wow. Okay. I feel a little better.
Enough to put away a Judice Inn burger, harass Emmett into taking a bath, and finally get the kids upstairs at eight-thirty. The twins won’t be asleep for hours with all the homework they have, but Emmett should konk out by nine.
I find Luc on the sectional, but not sprawled out with one arm resting on the back like I’d prefer. He’s sitting, but with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.
Shit.
He looks up when I approach. “They’re all good?”
“Yeah.” I know I should join him, but my feet don’t want to move.
Luc smacks the cushion next to him with two swats. “Come sit by me.”
I make a hesitant noise. “Mmm. I have a bad feeling about this.”
He cracks a smile. “What’s it telling you?”
I don’t mince words. “That you’re about to say something I won’t like.”
Luc presses his lips together and tilts his head to the side, considering. “You probably won’t like it, but we’ll deal.”
We’lldeal?
It’s thewepart that frees my feet up to move toward him. “Is this about why you seemed angry earlier?”
I’ve taken him off guard. I can see it in his eyes. “Angry?”
“At the game.”
A shadow passes over his face. “Oh. That… That was Papi.” Luc shakes his head, his gaze dropping. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
