I roll my eyes to the side and close the door while Enzo tows our neighbor straight to the kitchen. I can hear my son talking without a break between sentences. He’s excited.
I want to be relieved, but I also hate that I’m relying on someone to make Enzo’s day. I shouldn’t be able to stand the guy.
Following them, I admire how my son is already pointing to all of the food on the counter, cooling off in containers before heading to the fridge. “You’re just in time. We haven’t had pie yet.”
Tyler seems overwhelmed but has a grin allthe same.
“Why don’t you take a breather,” I suggest to Enzo. “I’ll chat with our guest while you go check there are no tiny toy bricks on the ground for any of us to trip on.”
My son grimaces at me before he marches off.
Silence fills the kitchen, and a whoosh of air travels through my body when it feels like Tyler turns to me in slow motion.
“It’s, uh… I kind of assumed you weren’t coming,” I murmur.
He lifts a shoulder, then it sinks. “I said maybe.”
I exhale loudly, annoyed. “Maybe isn’t good for Enzo, or any kid.” Leaning against the edge of the counter, I cross my arms, only to be reminded that I have ankle slippers, plaid pajama bottoms, and a form-fitting long-sleeve shirt that even I consider borderline too tight. My messy bun is questionable whether it’s cute messy or not. Grumbling to myself, I can just add this to my day of mishaps. “It’s not good for him to have any hope.”
Tyler’s eyes widen, and he leans against the island across from me. “Hope? I’m not sure Santa would be so happy that you are doubting it.” Is he joking? Or is he trying to ease me into a conversation that isn’t funny at all.
“I’m just saying. Be careful. He’s my son and…”
“Listen, we got in late yesterday because of the travel havoc, and I needed sleep to function properly. Not my fault that half of this country thinks dinner at 2pm on this day is a good idea.” He actually sounds kind of remorseful, and that takes me by surprise.
However, my mood has already been dampened, and my mind lets it go after a millisecond. “I’m just saying that Enzo is my number one, so maybes, no matter who it’s from, causes momma bear to come out, and I should have knownbetter because other than my brother, hockey players are all the same.”
He seems taken aback by my tenacity and offended. His head tilts to the side, his face stoic. “You really want to be one of those people who believe in stereotypes? Because we’re not all the same.”
I stand taller, and I do my best to tamp down a rage building that shouldn’t be seeing the light of day today. “You’re all selfish and forget about others.”
He steps forward, with his hands up to calm me. “Whoa there. You are a judgmental piece of work today,” he chides. “I’m not sure why the hell I came now. After all, I’m an asshole who thinks only of himself.”
He begins to turn, but I’m quick to grab his arm which causes him to pause, and his eyes drop down to my hand near his elbow before darting up to mine. It’s as though he is searching for something.
“Wait… I’m sorry. I’m just a little on edge.”
“No shit. You normally call me Scrooge, but you get that medal today.”
My lips roll in while I try to take control of my thoughts. “Maybe.”
“You hate that word, remember?” he deadpans.
Now my eyes grow slightly at his brazen response, and he only smirks cockily. “Just…” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before opening them, with a calming breath that he probably heard. “Stay. Enzo is right. We have pie… a lot of it. Well, a lot of food, too, if you’re hungry.”
“Will you put on an apron and make me a plate?” Is he teasing me or is there a hint of… flirting?
I smile tightly at him. “Not a chance.”
His gaze falls down. “Going to let me gonow? Or will your hand be holding onto me with this tight grip for the foreseeable future.”
My hand leaves his hard muscled arm as though he is fire and burned me. “Yeah, oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to… you know… touch you.” I’m rambling. Fuck. It just didn’t cross my mind that I was even touching him; it’s a natural touch, according to my body.
Tyler is clearly amused.
Making myself busy, I grab a plate and search the things on the counter. “I guess a bit of everything, right? I mean, it’s a cheat day today, and I can imagine you need your protein and maybe some antioxidants, you know sweet potatoes have that.”
“It’s covered in marshmallows,” he flatly points out.
