“How many kids does Tate have now?”
“Three. Brinley’s almost the perfect age for tea parties, but she’s kind of shy when we all get together and there’s a ton of adults. Darin’s not even a year old and he’s fun, but he’s not all about getting squooshed by Aunt Summer. He’d rather be eating pebbles off the ground.”
“You have a big family.”
“Yeah.” I lay back down and he curled me into him, my back to his front. “It’s pretty great.”
He didn’t respond. I ran my fingers between his.Questions piled up on my tongue. The one I wanted to ask most was—did he want kids? Did he think a big family was great like I did?
I’d almost lost my entire family, and Ihadlost my parents. Then I’d gained a new set of parents who’d helped me deal with the pain of losing my birth parents. My siblings had doubled. I loved my big, opinionated crew.
Jonah and Eli hadn’t been as close as my brothers were, and then Eli had been gone. Did a family like mine intimidate Jonah when he’d been on the fringes until the accident?
I didn’t know the answers and something kept me from asking. Jonah had reclaimed a part of himself by coming here and taking me out, but he was just starting his journey. I’d been stuck waiting in the same spot since I’d finished college and started working at the distillery.
This thing between us was new. I’d wait before we delved into discussions about the future. And maybe when I brought up the topic, I wouldn’t be so worried about the answers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jonah
Snow was melting and the weather forecast was clear. It would’ve been a good evening to travel and meet Summer after she got home from work. A month of going to Bozeman each weekend for dates and overnights had gone by. I wasn’t behind on work, but I’d had to halt side projects and focus on my orders since I was gone every weekend. It had gutted me to tell Summer I had to stay home, but the bar-height table and four matching stools made from repurposed barrels wouldn’t finish themselves. I needed to get them done and packaged. The delivery truck could pick them up Monday morning.
I would’ve had extra time, but I’d used up what cushion I had buried in Summer’s sweet body on Saturdays and most Sundays. As it was, I would have to work through Saturday, barely finish Sunday morning, and spend all afternoon packaging each item. The payoutwas the biggest I’d commissioned. I couldn’t fuck this up.
Yet I was worried about messing up what I had going with Summer. Would she think I was like her prick of an ex—too busy with work I thought was more important than her?
She had become very important to me. I couldn’t let her down, but she also deserved more than a mountain bum.
I put a screw in the seat of one of the stools. The whir of the drill filled the silence. I placed another screw and the shop door opened. I jerked, the drill whirred, and the screw clattered to the floor. “Shit.”
Who the hell was?—
“Knock, knock.” Summer pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. Her hair was back in a ponytail and more of her strawberry tint was growing out along her scalp. She smiled and sauntered toward me.
My pulse picked up and my dick came to attention. The weeks were long when she wasn’t around. My podcasts weren’t as interesting, and I didn’t look forward to going into the house for a bite to eat.
I drank her in. I’d thought I’d have to get through the weekend and then another week before I could see her again. “Hey.” I set the drill down. “You came?”
She smiled shyly and shoved her hands in her pockets, walking toward me. “I thought I could travel this time. I know you’re busy and I don’t have to stay in your house?—”
I caught her around her elbow and tugged her toward me. “You’ll be in my bed.” I crushed her mouth with mine. She tasted of minty gum and heaven.
Her giggle passed right into me, and she clung to myshoulders. She pulled away and gazed up at me with those luminous brown eyes. “So you’re okay that I invited myself?”
“Since when haven’t you invited yourself?”
She playfully swatted my shoulder. “Have you eaten yet?” I shook my head and she smirked. “I knew it.”
When she wasn’t in the house, I didn’t care how often I went in to eat. If she wasn’t on the other side of the table, the food was less appealing. “You don’t have to cook for me.”
“I want to, and I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re serious about getting this order done.” Her gaze landed on the table. “Oh my god. Is that it?” She pulled away and I instantly missed her heat and her strawberries-and-sugar scent. She rounded the table, staring at it like she was in a museum and that damn thing was the special exhibit.
“You can touch it.”
She flashed a grin my way. “I like touching your things.”
I liked when her fingers were on my things.
