No reason. No claim. And yes, I still wanted it.
"Should I step out to give you a minute?" he asked, frowning. "I'll tell them you're taking a call. I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position."
He could've volleyed back with a smartass remark or a fun jab about me attacking him or rebuke me for criticizing his social media presence. But he didn't do that. I shook my head because the knot of emotion in my throat made it too difficult to speak. I crossed the room toward him, his belt in hand, and wrapped my arms around his torso. "I don't like you, Mr. Guillmand," I said to his chest. "Not one bit."
He pressed his lips to my cheek. I felt him smile. "No, you don't, Miz Malik."
* * *
I wasn't a hugger.
People didn't greet me with a friendly hug and I preferred it that way.
As far as I was concerned, hugs were intimate gestures. They required a closeness that didn't have a home in the regular course of my life. It wasn't that I was incapable of engaging in that kind of closeness with others or expressing my fondness for them with physical touch. I simply preferred to do those things with other, less familiar gestures.
Talbott's Cove didn't do other, less familiar gestures.
No, hugging was a way of life here. Save for Owen and Cole who knew me well enough to know better, I was subject to unlimited hugs when I was in this area. Babies, adults, dogs—you name it, they hugged.
That was how I came to have an infant latched onto my cheek while also tearing my hair from the roots.
"Elliott, seriously, kid," Brooke Harniczek warned, prying his fingers open. "We can't do this to nice people. Neera's going to think you're a cannibal."
Outside on the deck with Owen, Gus shifted to face me, an amused smile pulling at his lips. He tipped his chin up. I did my best to return the smile despite the parents hovering around me and their baby.
"It's all these teeth he's cutting," JJ said, gathering his son under his arms while Brooke freed the last strands of my hair from his chubby palms. "I'm telling you, Bam, he needs more than milk, bananas, and avocado. We should give him a bone to gnaw on or something."
"Jed, we're not having this conversation while we extricate our child from his latest victim," she replied, sliding her finger into his mouth and breaking the suction on my cheek. I stepped back, grinning at baby Elliott as he sucked Brooke's finger while JJ cradled him. Those three rarely separated. It was unexpected—and sweet. "He can have a slab of prime rib if that's what he wants but first, we're dealing with the fact he tried to maul Cole's guest and it's not the first time he's done something like this."
"After all these years, I'm hardly a guest," I said, waving off their concern. I wasn't one for casual hugs and I didn't see that changing, but I wasn't upset about one zealous infant. If anything, he was a fine reminder that I was due to visit my gynecologist for a new IUD. "He's getting so big. How old is he now?"
"Almost seven months old," JJ replied, pride beaming from his deep grin. "Four teeth too."
"Don't I know it," Brooke muttered. "I'm so sorry he glommed all over you. He gets so excited when he comes here. The dogs, the uncles. Everything." She shook her head, only glancing away from her son for a moment. "I hope he didn't leave a mark. Is it okay? Did he get you?"
Again, I waved off the concern. "Nothing to worry about."
The deck door opened and Owen entered, a tray of grilled fish and vegetables in hand. "Have a seat, everyone," he called as he moved into the kitchen. Gus followed, closing the door behind him. "If you're pouring drinks, Harniczek, do it now."
"Already done," JJ replied, pulling out a chair for Brooke with one hand, football-holding Elliott in the other.
Cole, Gus, and I found our seats. Owen set the platters on the table and turned toward JJ, his arms outstretched. "I'll hold this little guy while you eat," he said.
"Are you sure?" JJ asked.
Owen nodded, plucking the baby from JJ's hold. "This is what uncles are for, yes. Sit, eat. I'll give him back when he needs to be changed."
JJ watched closely while Owen settled into his seat at the head of the table with Elliott perched on his lap. Eventually, JJ dropped into a chair beside Brooke, his gaze still fixed on his son.
Cole glanced up and down the table, frowning. "Why aren't Jackson and Annette here?"
"They're moving this weekend," Brooke answered. She glanced at me and Gus while she snatched JJ's plate away from him and proceeded to fill it with food. "You've met them, Neera. He's the sheriff. She's the little one with the curly hair. She owns the bookstore in town."
Gus bobbed his head, saying, "Yes. I met her today."
I shifted to face him. "What? When?"
He smirked. "When I was wandering. She explained some of the region's natural history and pointed me toward several books on the indigenous people."
