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“Thank you.”
“Safety first, right, Maddie?” he asks, opening the back door of his shiny black SUV and placing her expertly in the back seat. He doesn’t seem to mind that I double-check his work, and I wouldn’t care if he did. This little girl is my life and it’s my job to protect her. However, I didn’t need to check. This isn’t Marshall's first rodeo. I know he’s very involved in his nephews’ lives. His entire family is.
What would it be like to have that kind of support system?
Marshall is already behind the wheel when I take my seat. “What sounds good for dinner?”
“I’m not picky.”
“I didn’t ask you if you were picky, Wren, but that’s good to know.” Again, he reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh. “I asked you what sounds good to you.”
“Honestly?”
“Always.”
“Pizza.”
“Pizza?”
“Yeah. It’s not something I splurge on very often.”
“That’s your favorite?”
I nod. “It is.”
“Okay. Pizza it is.” He doesn’t ask me why I barely indulge in my favorite food. Unless it’s the frozen cardboard variety, I don’t get it much. It’s expensive to eat out. I do more Ramen noodles, spaghetti, soup, peanut butter and jelly, macaroni and cheese, things like that. Pizza, although my favorite, is a treat I can’t afford.
“There are a few places that are close to my condo. They deliver. We’ll get Madeline settled and you can choose.”
“Anything, Marshall, really.”
“Nope. It’s the lady’s choice tonight. If Maddie could tell me, I’d ask her.”
“Thank you.” My voice is soft as I’m overtaken with emotion. He’s so good to Madeline and me. He’s sweet and caring, and lethal to my heart if its rapid pace is any indication.
“For what?” He glances over at me, then quickly puts his eyes back on the road.
“For tonight.”
“It’s just starting.”
“I know, but I don’t want to forget to tell you.” He doesn’t comment, but the gentle squeeze on my thigh tells me that he heard me, and maybe he doesn’t feel as though he needs to reply. I replay my words in my head, and it sounds stupid now that I play it back, but I get overwhelmed when he’s close, and I truly didn’t want to forget. Even if he was taking me straight home, just the little bit of time I’ve had with him today has been nice, and the flowers are beautiful, and they were unexpected.
“Wow, this is where you live?” I ask. We pull up to a two-story condo with a three-car attached garage. Three cars!
“Yeah, it was convenient in my younger days. My brothers and I used to hit the clubs a lot on the weekends, and we could walk everywhere we went. Conrad used to live just down the road, but he sold his condo and bought the house they live in now.”
“You don’t go to clubs anymore?”
“Nah. It was something I did with my brothers, and it’s not much fun without them. Now we’re usually at one of their houses, and I’m fighting with them to get time with my nephews. You might not know this, but my brothers are baby hogs.”
“Soon you’ll have two more babies to fight over.”
“I know. It can’t come soon enough. Owen needs to hurry up and have another one so we can even things out. We’ll all have a baby to snuggle with.”
“What about you? You don’t want kids?”
“I do want kids. I just need to find their momma first.” He winks, grabbing the keys from the ignition. “Come on, beautiful. I’ll grab Maddie.”
I do my best to school my features, and I hope he can’t hear the rapid beat of my heart. I don’t know if it’s his sweet words or the wink that has my heart feeling as though it could beat right out of my chest.
I feel so far out of my element. His place compared to mine is just one more indicator that he’s way out of my league. Surely, he can see that. Holding back my sigh and already invested for the night, I grab Madeline’s diaper bag. “Can I leave my flowers in the car?”
“Sure. That will save us packing them when it’s time to leave.”
“That’s what I was thinking too,” I tell him.
With my purse and the diaper bag slung over my shoulder, I follow him through the service door in his garage that leads us into a mudroom. He keeps walking as we enter the kitchen. He sets Madeline’s car seat on the island and makes quick work of removing her from her seat. “Let’s find Mommy those menus,” he tells my daughter. “Ah-hah.” He pulls out a stack of menus and slides them across the island to me while bouncing Madeline in his arms.
“I can take her.”
“Nope. You tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll order.”
“I’m not picky.”
He steps around the island, moving into my personal space. He raises his palm to rest against my cheek. “Baby, this is your favorite. I want you to tell me what you want. We’re going to order pizza and chill with the little angel, and then we’re going to stuff ourselves with pizza.”
