“I want to be a hockey player,” Josh says, eyes shining with excitement.
“Me too,” Grant and Stella pipe in.
Zoe shakes her head decisively. “Not me. I want to be a nurse.” She beams up at her mom, who gave up nursing when she moved to Boston. My heart pinches tight. Something in the way these kids want to help their parents, emulate them, tugs at old, buried emotions.
Gina taps Zoe’s nose. “You would make an amazing nurse.”
I smile at the exchange before settling back into the game. I take a shot, and the clack of balls mingles with laughter and Rowyn’s animated voice as she plans a double date with Maria. But now I’m white knuckling my stick so hard, I fear I’m about to snap it.
After about half an hour, Tanner leans down to Stella and announces that it’s bedtime. Reluctantly, they all file out—the kids’ laughter lingering in the hallway. Soon enough, the boys are tucked in as well, Marbles on his bed in Josh’s room.
Maria heads to the library, books stacked around her. I wanted to ask her what happened earlier, wanted to get the truth out of her, but I leave it. She needs this time. She needs space. Not wanting to be in her way, I go up to my bedroom, and strip off. I tug on a pair of sweats, climb into my bed, and flick on the TV, letting the mindless glow wash over me. I think about the day, about the warmth and chaos of the house, and my eyelids grow heavy.
And then a noise downstairs cuts through the quiet.
I sit up with a jolt, my pulse spiking, before reminding myself I have houseguests. I freeze, listening. Footsteps. A scrape. The soft tinkle of something moving.
I push myself up from the bed and make my way quietly toward the source. The library is just as I left it—books sprawled across the desk—but then a sharp, unmistakable crash echoes from the kitchen. Did the kitten get loose, and break something?
I creep closer to the kitchen, careful not to scare anyone—or anything. And that’s when I see it, lit only by the glow of the light above the sink.
Jesus.
I said I wanted to get to the bottom of matters, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.
This is way better…
10
Maria
A soft intake of breath in the doorway reaches my ears and I stand and turn. I find Tuck standing there, backlit by the office light spilling down the hall, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his face half-shadowed.
“Tuck,” I murmur. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I came in here to get a drink and broke a glass.”
“Don’t move,” he murmurs as he steps into the kitchen, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Close your eyes. I’m going to turn the light on and don’t want to blind you.”
I do as he says, squeezing them shut. There’s a quiet click, the hum of the overhead light, and warmth washes over my eyelids.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I open my eyes slowly and glance down. Shards of glass glitter across the floor.
“Where’s the broom?” I ask automatically, already shifting my weight.
“Don’t move, Maria.”
There’s something in his tone that stops me cold. He disappears for a second, the soft thud of a closet door opening down the hall, and returns in a pair of runners. I watch, completely still now, as he grabs a broom from the utility closet.
“I’m sorry I broke a glass,” I say again, suddenly feeling like a kid caught sneaking cookies. “I didn’t turn on the light in case it woke anyone.”
“I’m not worried about the glass.” His voice sounds huskier now. Lower.
A shard crunches beneath his runners as he steps closer, the sound loud in the quiet kitchen.
“You okay?” he asks.
