“Exactly.”
I need to get back to my point. “I’ll be careful with how I tell my cousins. I promise.”
“Okay.” His thumb strokes my kneecap. “How soon will you tell them?”
“Sunday, I think. They’re all coming here for family dinner.”
His eyebrows lift. “You’re hosting?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“I’m not. I just assumed Lucy always hosted. She’s got that big house, plus she and Peter both cook.”
“Jake hosts sometimes,” I argue. “Even Kaleb hosted a picnic last summer.” Sighing, I twist a long shank of hair around my wrist. “But yeah, it’s usually Lucy. And I’ll admit I’m not much of a cook. I felt bad for never taking a turn, so I figured I’d give it a shot. It’s the least I could do to be part of the family.”
A crooked smile tugs at the edge of his mouth. “That’s what I love about you, Hazel.”
Love?
He squeezes my knee, and my heart begins beating again. “You’re all about doing the right thing,” he continues. “I dig that about you.”
“Thanks.” Speaking of doing the right thing— “I had fun just now, Luke.”
“Oh, boy.” Muttering something, he gets up and starts dressing. “Here comes the magical but.”
The view of his muscular backside stalls my reply. Talk about magical butts.
“Nothing’s changed,” I insist. “We still can’t be together.”
“Sure.” He tugs on his pants, not meeting my eyes. “Remind me again why that was?”
“We’re too different.” I catch myself scrambling to remember more reasons. “It’s inevitable we’d eventually split up, and that’s not fair to our children. Better to begin with no expectations of a traditional family.”
“Okay.” He gives me his back as he pulls on a sock.
“Neither of us has any experience with a normal, nuclear family.” I feel like I’m grasping at straws. “We’re complete opposites, Luke. And the only thing opposites attract is?—”
“Heartache. Got it.” His shoulders look stiff as he turns and starts searching for his shirt. It’s probably back in the nursery. “I should get back to the cribs.”
“Luke, wait?—”
“Don’t worry, Hazel. I hear you loud and clear.” He anchors his fists on the bed, bracketing one on each side of me. Pressing his forehead to mine, he gives me his slow, steady smile. “We’re friends, co-parents, and maybe fuck buddies. Nothing more.”
“That’s right.” My mouth feels suddenly dry. Licking my lips, I pull up the sheet to cover my breasts. “This can’t happen again.”
“Whatever you say.” His blue gaze holds mine, a kaleidoscope of coppery sparks.
Struggling for breath, I give a tight nod. “Glad you understand.”
“Yep.” He’s not blinking at all, and maybe not breathing. When he kisses me softly, I let him.
It’s a sweet, tender kiss. Such a soft brush of lips that I sink into the sensation. When he draws back, I miss all that warmth.
He looks into my eyes and nods once. “I meant what I said.”
“Wh—what?”
But Luke doesn’t answer. Just shoves off the bed and strides from the room. The thud of his footsteps retreats down the hall as I turn to the stowaway cat on my bed.
