We manage to keep it to five minutes, clothes on, because Eden makes me an offer I can’t refuse, her hand slipping down to cup my cock through my jeans: “I want you to save this for later so you can make a mess of me again.”
“Done,” I say and—breathing hard—manage to get both my hands back on the wheel.
“So is this a long-standing tradition? Family dinner?” she asks when both of us are breathing more or less normally again.
“Nope. Brand new. My sibs started it after Preston moved back to Rush Creek. For a long time, the six of us were scattered to the winds, so it couldn’t happen, but Natalie’s such a coordinator that once she and Preston were together there was no stopping it.”
“And you’re sure it’s okay that you’re bringing a guest?”
“Yup. Ivy brings her sister sometimes. Hanna brings random sisters-in-law when their husbands are away on trips. Everyone brings strays from time to time.”
“That’s me,” she says, laughing. “A stray.”
“I think I’m the stray. You picked me up on your way out of Rush Creek.”
“You were driving the getaway car.”
“Maybe we’re both strays and that’s why we like each other.”
She strokes a hand over mine, and it takes all my self-control to continue gripping the wheel.
We arrive at Hanna’s a few minutes after that and are ushered into the fray. Eloise, Hanna and Easton’s daughter, toddles around the living room while the adults coo and babble at her like they’re the ones who don’t know how to string together full sentences. Sonya and Quinn’s dogs, Gus and Frank, roam back and forth among their owners, their other favorite humans, and the kitchen, where Easton occasionally “accidentally” drops a treat onto the floor. Gus is a rescue with one straight ear and one floppy one, a tuft of white hair on his brown head, and an absurdly long tail. Frank is a Chihuahua/Great Dane/Labrador mix where the Great Dane seems to have won out over the Chihuahua, except for his slightly ratty face. Neither of them is much of a looker, but they’re the sweetest dogs I know.
If the possibility of losing the land is on anyone’s mind, I can’t tell. The mood is buoyant.
Eden has already met almost everyone present, but I introduce her to Easton, Eloise, Gus, and Frank, then step away for a second to hand Hanna a check I’d collected from one of our wedding clients. When I come back, Eden is crouched, scritching Gus’s tufted head, smiling up at something Quinn has said to her. She looks like she’s always been here, like she belongs with my family.
Something shifts and settles, warm, in my gut. I’m about to poke and prod at it, to see if I’m okay with letting it stay, when Hanna, who’s standing by the front window, says, “You guys! Tucker’s here!”
“Seriously?” Preston asks. “I would have put money on him not showing up.”
Hanna surveys us. “We probably shouldn’t all be standing around staring at the door when he walks in, or we’re going to scare him right back out again.”
Everyone immediately makes themselves busy, chatting with their immediate neighbor, fussing over a drink, or grabbing food.
Hanna tucks herself behind the small window of the front door, where she can watch Tucker’s progress without being so obvious.
“It’s good that he’s here, right?” Eden asks me.
“It’s great.” And it’ll be a nice bonus if I don’t have to hunt him down and make him talk, because I’m guessing I won’t fix what’s dogging him by getting in his face.
“Shiii—” Hanna looks down at Eloise, who is aggressively petting Frank’s head. “Sugar!”
“What?” Natalie asks.
But it becomes obvious a second later when Tucker’s truck’s big engine roars back to life in the driveway. A moment later, wheels grind on gravel, and the truck sounds recede.
“He’s gone,” Hanna says, unnecessarily.
Confused and concerned glances circle the room.
“Damn,” Preston says. “Should have laid that bet.” But it’s half-hearted. He’s worried—I can see it.
Hanna scowls. “He stared at the house with this weird expression on his face. Then he put his head down on the steering wheel and stayed that way for a while. Then he started the truck and left.”
“Do you think he saw you at the window?” Natalie asks.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think it had anything to do with what he saw. Or that wasn’t the impression I got, anyway.”
