“Right,” I manage to get out as my throat tightens. “It’s probably best if they help get her set up.”
“All set?” the clerk asks, coming around the corner and Tuck inches back. “I can ring you in.”
We follow her to the cash, and Tuck and the boys empty the cart. Tuck reaches for his wallet and I stop him.
“I can’t let you pay.”
“It’s fine,” he tells me. “We can work something out.”
He says it so casually, like those words are not full of sexual innuendo when we both clearly know they are.
The boys grab the supplies, and we head back outside, piling into Tuck’s car. Once we’re buckled in, Tuck says, “I’ll drive you guys home so you can pack a few things.”
“We’ll meet you at your place,” I tell him. “I’ll need the car to get to work in the morning anyway.”
“Mom, I’m starved,” Josh groans, collapsing into his seat.
I glance at the clock on the console. The trip to the pet store took longer than I realized. “I need to make dinner.” I’m about to extend an invite to Tuck—thank him properly for everything he’s doing for us—but he speaks first.
“You can cook at my place,” he says. “Try out the executive kitchen, or we can just get takeout. Save you the trouble. Although we’d have to go to the grocery store. I’m not well equipped.”
Oh, he is so wrong about that…
“You’ve done enough for us already, so I’m cooking for you,” I point out. “I have chicken in the fridge. I’ll pack up everything I need and bring it.”
The smile he gives me trips up my traitorous heart. “I was hoping you would.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Why do I feel like that was a set-up?”
He whistles innocently, and then adds, “I can help.” His words are followed by a wince. “Although I know my skills in the kitchen are mediocre at best.”
Oh, he’s so wrong about that, too…
“We all remember the pasta salad debacle.” I point out and he laughs. “How about you just watch.”
Heat flickers in his eyes—a slow, dangerous glow that makes me think he’s remembering the way he watched me in the kitchen earlier today…what that led to. I haven’t forgotten it either.
“Mom,” Lucas pipes up from the back seat, his thumbs flying across his phone. “Ari wants to come over to see Marbles before we go to Tuck’s.”
“I’m not sure we have time for that. We need to pack clothes, and I need to get started on dinner before Josh starves to death.”
“Why don’t you go with Tuck, and I’ll drive over later?” Lucas suggests.
“I’ll catch a ride with Lucas. Jacob wants to come see Marbles, too.”
I glance at Tuck, and he nods. “Um…I guess that’s okay,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.
“Sweet,” Lucas says, practically bouncing in his seat.
And just like that, my chest tightens. With the boys coming later, I know what that means—Tuck and I, alone, in his house, in his kitchen, of all places.
The backseat chatter continues, but I stare straight ahead, my brain firing a million little scenarios as Tuck maneuvers through the busy streets. We pull up in front of the café, and the boys jump out.
“Here, let me take Marbles while you guys get packed,” Tuck says, climbing from the car. Josh hesitates, then reluctantly hands over the kitten. The bond he already has with the kitten is so sweet.
Speaking of sweet…
I glance at Tuck. He tilts his head toward me, that faint smirk tugging at his lips. “What?” he asks.
