I pull out my phone and dial one of the few personal numbers it contains.
“Hey, lady.” Mariah’s sunshiny voice has me smiling. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” I work my lower lip between my teeth, suddenly feeling a little concerned my question might be taken the wrong way. “I was planning to cook Tobias dinner as a thank you for letting me stay with him while I was sick.” That sounds reasonable, right? Platonic. Not at all like I’m still riding the high of the orgasm he gave me during work hours. “But I don’t know what he would like, and I thought you might have some ideas for me.”
“Hmmm…” Mariah pauses for a second. “What does Tobias like to eat…”
“I think I can answer that question.” Titus’s voice in the background carries a smirk, and has my skin heating.
“Ignore him.” I can almost hear her eyes rolling. “I don’t know if you have brothers, but they don’t miss an opportunity to torment each other.”
“I don’t have brothers or sisters, but I remember how the Bradshaw boys are.”
I also remember how much Tobias bitched about it. The way he acted like his brothers drove him nuts and his mother’s attention was stifling.
It’s why I thought he would want to come to California with me. I took his words at face value because I understood what it was like to have a family you didn’t enjoy. Never in amillion years would it have occurred to me that someone would have the luxury of dishing out empty complaints. Not when the ones I had about my own parents were so full.
“Back to what Tobias likes to eat.” Mariah quickly redirects the conversation and my thoughts. “I’ve noticed when their mom makes tacos, he eats them like he may never get another one in his lifetime.”
Tacos? I can make tacos.
Aiming for the aisle with preblended spices and shells, I ask, “Crunchy or soft?”
“Both. He layers them together with cheese in the middle.”
That actually sounds freaking delicious. “Got it.”
“And he flipping loves dessert. Of any kind. Eats the absolute shit out of it.”
I’m not a terrible cook, but no one will ever accuse me of missing my calling as a baker. “I’m not so good at making desserts.”
“I actually have a recipe for something really simple if you want it.” Mariah makes the offer without me even having to ask. It’s unexpected. Endearing.
“I would love that.” Grabbing both crunchy and soft taco shells off the shelf, I drop them into my basket. “I owe you big time.”
Mariah snorts. “Pretty sure you can make it up to me once these babies are here, because I have a feeling Tobias is going to try to buy them a petting zoo. So if you can just make sure that doesn’t happen, consider us even for eternity.”
I can actually see Tobias doing that. He is so excited to be an uncle, and determined the twins are going to favor him above everyone else. “I’ll do my best.”
Mariah and I say our goodbyes, and I pull up the recipe she texts me, pleasantly surprised that it does seem pretty simple.Not sure how well-stocked Tobias’s kitchen is, I collect all the ingredients it requires then check out.
After getting ho—to Tobias’s house, I let both dogs out, giving each of them a homemade treat from the jar, before putting away the groceries. The first thing I tackle is the dessert Mariah suggested. I’m having my doubts about the whole thing as I pour the mixed batter into a baking dish, but it’s too late to turn back now. I slide it into the oven, setting a timer before hurrying upstairs.
While I was sick, Tobias brought all my clothes here, stacking the folded items in neat piles along the top of his dresser and hanging everything else in the closet. I shuck my work clothes, tossing the machine washable items into the laundry basket before taking a quick shower. I towel off and lotion up, only to discover my limited number of pajamas are dirty.
Since I’m still dealing with a limited budget, everything else I own is for work. I obviously need to do laundry more regularly than I thought. Good to know, but not really helpful right now. I don’t have any other option but to raid Tobias’s closet. I’ve done it once before, but that was when I didn’t have anything else here.
Technically, I was sick all weekend—preventing me from even thinking about doing laundry—so I try not to feel like I’m overstepping as I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, layering on one of his MSS hoodies since I’m a little chilly.
Hair up in another messy bun, I hurry back downstairs to begin making dinner. I’m not sure what time Tobias will be home, but taco meat can hang out indefinitely, and everything else is just toppings, so it should be fine.
Just as I’m putting a lid on the meat so it can simmer, my cell phone dings, alerting me to a text message. I pick it up,expecting it to be Mariah asking me how her dessert suggestion went, but it’s Tobias letting me know he’s on his way home.
Something flutters inside my belly. A nervous sort of energy buzzing through me as I chop lettuce and tomatoes, grateful I have something to do. Because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to sit down right now.
When I hear the garage open, heat crawls up my neck and across my face. I feel… embarrassed. Weird. Nervous about facing Tobias after what happened in my office.
It’s occurring to me for the first time that being here with him in his house might be awkward now. Strange.
