He looks up from the project he’s currently working on—fixing our leaky bathroom pipe—and grins. “Like a hotty.” He stands, setting the wrench down on the vanity. “Where’s your mystery man taking you for date number four?”
I bite my lip. “I’m not sure. All he said was that he had a surprise for me and to dress casual.” I wish I could say I was a little more excited than nervous, but fear has got me all tangled up in knots.
The worry must be written all over my face because Marcus’ giant hand cups the back of my head before he pulls me closer and presses a kiss on my forehead. “Has he given you any bad vibes on your other dates?”
I shake my head, peering up. “No, not at all. He’s been a complete green fuckin’ flag, actually.”
Marcus’ expression goes unreadable for a moment before he replies, “Then I’m sure this”—his thumb smooths out the worry lines between my brows—“is all in your head.”
Yeah, it probably is. That’s what my therapist, Brooks, also told me when I had my teletherapy appointment with him earlier. Still, it doesn’t stop the feelings that have ebbed and flowed through me for years from rising like the tides tonight. “You sure you don’t want me to postpone so I can take Harrison and Brody to the fireworks with you? You know how crowded it can get on the boardwalk on the Fourth of July…”
I’m met with an unamused expression. “What makes you think I can’t handle a pair of eleven-year-olds by myself? Stop fretting, and go on your date. Make sure your phone is charged before going, that way you can always get a hold of me if you need to.”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “And me dating outside of us isn’t bothering you?”
Marcus grabs his wrench with a huff, ducking back down under the sink. “I’m not going to dignify that question with the thousandth same answer, Lauren,” he deadpans. “Did it bother you when I went out and got a little side action?”
“No.”
“Alright, then. Sounds like we’ve settled that…again.”
“Brody’s got his bag packed for his sleepover,” I sigh.
“I know,” he mutters from under the sink. “I helped him pack, remember? Even argued with him over your non-negotiable extra pair of boxers.”
I huff in annoyance, “It never hurts to be prepared!”
He peeks out from underneath the sink, offering me an eyeroll. “You act as if every outing that requires us to pack an overnight bag is going to end with us all shitting ourselves on the reg, darling.”
“You never know. And hey, this is why I insist that we not share underwear!”
“Iamwearing my own goddamn thongs now! They’re actually more comfortable anyway. The boys are adequately cupped.”
“See?”
He smirks. “See as in you want to see them, or see like you’ve made your point?”
I giggle. “Both?”
He stands again, but doesn’t make a move to pull down his—ahem,gray—sweatpants. No, he gives me a chaste peck on the cheek instead. “If you don’t end up spending the night out at fart squirrel village, I’ll show you them when you get home.”
I instantly tense up. Every muscle in my body goes rigid. I’ve never mentioned to Marcus that Caleb’s son, Cameron, has a pet skunk. How could he possibly know that, unless he knows him?Shit, so then he must know how I met Caleb in the first place—I’m dating a client.
“How do you know about Pepper?”
Marcus immediately stills as well. His eyes dart around the room quickly before finding their way back to my face. “Um, I—” he stammers. “Uh, I think you mentioned it?”
“I didn’t. IknowI didn’t.”
Just then, Brody strides by the open bathroom door. “Dad and I met Pepper when we were out delivering packages a few weeks back!AndI met Cameron; he speaks sign too! He and his dadbothdo. Cool, huh? Dad already knows Caleb, Cameron’s dad. They don’t get along, but Dad says it’s like me and Ryker. He’ll work on it.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Marcus grumbles under his breath, scrubbing his palm down over his face.
My jaw is practically scraping the floor as I gape back at Marcus. “YouknowCaleb? How?”
Marcus’ face scrunches in frustration. Before he can reply, however, the strobe we have, which accompanies the chime of a doorbell, flickers. Brody runs to the door, likely anticipating the arrival of his best friend, Harrison, but is met by Caleb—holding a bouquet of dark maroon roses—instead.
“Hi!” Brody chirps. “What are you doing here? I was just telling Mom how Dad and I met you! Who are those flowers for?”
