I wave awkwardly.“Hey, guys.”
“Hi,” Tate chirps.
But to my surprise, Carson jumps up and, like a proper host, asks, “Can I get you a drink?”
“I popped a bottle of white wine in the freezer, Bud.It should be cold enough,” Hugo informs him.
“Wine, Bess?”his son asks.
“Um…sure, please.”
When he pulls the bottle from the freezer, I recognize the label.It’s the same BC wine we had with dinner at Fusion.One glance at Hugo tells me that’s not a coincidence, and something warm unfurls in my chest.The thoughtful gesture makes me feel instantly welcome.
“Come outside with me while I keep an eye on the grill,” Hugo suggests.“It’s not that cold, have a heater going out there.”
The large deck off the kitchen is great, so is the rest of the backyard, but what steals the show is the view of the river and the mountains.This neighborhood is one of the newer subdivisions, with houses spread a fair distance apart, and backing onto the river that cuts through this valley.
“Wow.This is nice.”
Ragnar almost bowls me over in his rush to run into the yard.
“We like it.”
He casually throws a smile over his shoulder as he opens the lid of an impressive stainless-steel grill.
“You could cook half a cow on that thing,” I point out.“It’s big enough.”
“What can I say?”he returns.“In a household with two active guys, you need a big grill.”Then he adds with a wink, “Size matters.”
I shake my head at the cheesy joke, and grab the ball Ragnar drops on my feet.Tossing it toward the river, I grin watching the dog lope after it, ears flopping.I tug the edges of my cardigan closed against the definite chill in the air.
“Here,” Hugo says, coming over to wrap an arm around my shoulders.
Next, he moves me closer to an outside heater that looks more like a lamppost, and pushes me down on an outdoor couch underneath.The pillows are nice and warm on my butt.To my surprise, he goes down on his haunches in front of me, his hands on my knees as he locks eyes with me.
“If we didn’t have an audience, I could think of a thing or two to warm you up,” he rumbles in a low voice that causes an immediate physical response from me.“But for now, the heater will have to do.”
Then he gets up, drops a kiss on top of my head, and returns to the grill.
My eyes are glued to his fine ass every step.
Ireallylike this side of him.
Chapter9
Bess
“Oh, come on!You cheat, Dad.”
Hugo laughs as his son tosses his remaining cards on the table.Carson is joking, but you can tell he’s annoyed his dad just won the third game in a row.
“You can’t really cheat in Crazy Eights, Carson,” Tate points out, quietly gathering up the pile of cards.
It had been her idea to play a game after dinner.I got the sense Hugo might have had different ideas, and Carson probably would’ve done anything suggested by Tate, but I was actually excited about the prospect.
It’s been so many years since I’ve last played any game.Mom used to love card games, any card games.Crazy Eights, Canasta, Rummy, you name it, she’d play.I remember many nights after we cleaned up the dinner dishes, we’d sit down at the table with a cup of tea, a plate of cookies, and a deck of cards.Even in my teens, I preferred that over going out and partying with my friends, like my brother used to do.Not that I had a ton of friends to start with.Not back then anyway.
“I bet you if anyone could, it’d be my dad,” Carson insists, with a little smirk on his face that seems to be reserved for Tate.
