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.”
