“You have no idea,” she murmured, marveling at him. His eyes sparkled, his shoulders looked broader somehow, and that smile… Gosh, that smile could undo her in a second.
“I should go,” he said hesitantly, as though catching himself. “I’m sure you are busy, but I just wanted…”
“Tate,” she interrupted quickly, afraid he might actually leave. She shook her head, staring at him in wonder. “Come in. I was just making some buckeyes for myself and…”
“And me?” he asked, his expression softening in a way that made her pulse stutter.
“Maybe?” she teased, cheeks heating as she laughed awkwardly, waving her hand as if to brush it off. “Let’s not make this weird. Friends, right?”
“Exactly,” he said with almost too much brightness, his voice riding the edge of something unsteady. “You don’t mind me coming over?”
“Not at all. Come on, and I’ll pour us some coffee.”
“Could I help you?”
“You want to help me make the buckeyes?” she asked, incredulous.
“Sure. Why not?”
She walked toward the kitchen, and Tate followed her, shutting the door behind him. She heard his footsteps, felt hispresence, and marveled at how suddenly small her house was with him in it.
“How’s Mulligan?”
“Into everything,” he volunteered simply. “He’s discovered the joy of unrolling the toilet paper and shredding it all over the bathroom floor.”
“Oh noo…”
“Yep. It’s like having a child around. I have to pick up everything and partition off stuff just to keep him safe.”
Nettie was pulling two cups from the cabinet – and nearly dropped them at the thought of Tate and children. Would they have his beautiful dark eyes, his slightly wavy hair? What would he be like as a father? He was wonderful with Mulligan and…
“Do you ever think about children of your own someday?” he said suddenly, his voice quiet as his eyes studied her. “I know we fight a lot, but we don’t talk nearly enough, and thinking of Mulligan made me want to ask you.”
“I love children,” she whispered, staring up at him and realizing that the tiny house was now moving to a miniscule size. “Sugar?”
“Please,” he nodded.
“I’d always hoped someday that I would have children,” she continued, feeling the need to answer his question even if it meant bringing it up again. “What about you? Do you ever think about children?”
“I never did until recently.”
Ohhhh,she thought nervously, and her trembling hand was sprinkling the sugar into his cup and on the counter as it shook.
“And now?” she croaked.
“I could see it someday. You?”
“I could see it someday,” she repeated, trying to play it cool instead of screaming ‘I want your baby’ or ‘take me’… No, no. This would not be the correct time to let her ‘hussy-flag-fly’.According to him, they weren’t dating – and she kept claiming she wanted friendship. And silently cursed the corner she’d backed herself into mentally.
Nettie swore her knees might buckle at any second. Tate’s voice had dropped low, softer than she’d ever heard it, a private kind of tone that wrapped around her like a secret only meant for the two of them.
“I can’t wait for you to see me play Friday…” he said softly, his hand brushing against the small of her back where he’d stepped close. The touch was nothing more than a press of his palm, the heat of him warming through the thin fabric of her shirt, but it lit her skin like fire.
Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Play it cool, Nettie. Breathe. Don’t sway. Don’t faint. Don’t act like this is the literal highlight of your existence.
“I can’t either,” she murmured, hoping her voice didn’t crack under the weight of her own nerves. She turned slightly, reaching to hand him his cup, desperate for a distraction, but he caught her off guard. His fingers brushed hers, firm but gentle, as he took it straight out of her hands and set it aside on the counter without breaking eye contact.
The world stilled. Even the humming of the refrigerator and the ticking clock seemed to vanish. It was just him—his dark gaze fixed on hers, his nearness pressing down on her chest until she could barely breathe.
