The room suddenly shrinks around me. I shift in my chair, trying to act casual, even as a hot, sour twist of jealousy coils in my chest. I try to respond, but my thoughts spin faster than I can steady them.
“I mean…is Maria…does she…want…”
Why the hell can’t I form a complete sentence?
“I know, I know,” she repeats, laughing softly. “I shouldn’t meddle too much. I heard all about Grant’s ridiculous antics when he tried to play matchmaker for Ash and Gina. But this…this feels different. Maria’s ready to get back out there. And those two boys of hers could really use a father figure, or at least a male influence in their life, don’t you think?”
“They have us,” Jaxon pipes in. “All of us married guys who have kids of our own, and even the single ones. Isn’t that right, Tuck?”
“Uh, yeah.” I swallow hard. My eyes flick to the man’s profile on her phone, and with each passing second, my irritation grows, irrational as it may be. Maria deserves someone good. A man who loves kids. Someone steady. Someone who hasn’t been shattered by the past…someone who isn’t afraid of losing again.
“Tuck, don’t you think?” Rowyn asks, and her voice tugs me back, insistently bright, but the lump in my throat refuses to move.
No, I don’t fucking think…
4
Maria
The bell over the café door jingles, and for a second my heart lifts. I expect the boys—backpacks slung low, arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes tonight after dinner. But it’s not them. It’s Tuck and Nicklas.
They step in from the late-afternoon chill, bringing with them the sharp scent of cold October air. Monday means we close early. Soon enough the café will be quiet and golden light will slant through the front windows. It’s one of my favorite times of the day.
I wipe my palms on my apron and my stupid hands shake when I reach for the coffee carafe. Honestly, I wish Tuck’s mere presence didn’t undo me like this. I go for casual. Easy. Unbothered. I don’t even look up at first, but I feel it anyway, the weight of Tuck’s eyes tracking me as I cross the floor. My pulse trips over itself.
We almost kissed yesterday.
Almost.
I wanted it. He wanted it. The air between us had been thick with it, charged and impossible to ignore. But wanting and doing are two very different things. And I can’t. I just…can’t.
He offered to help me after I doubted I could do everything. That’s what he does. Team captain. Protector. The guy who shows up when someone needs something. He was out at Noah’s cottage cutting wood this weekend.
Wood.
Dear God.
I force my thoughts back into line before I dump a full pot of coffee into someone’s lap.
“How was practice?” I ask, aiming for breezy.
I only know they had morning practice because Gina stopped by with little Grant after dropping Zoe at school. Grant and Mom came in later too. Mom looked mostly okay, but she couldn’t stop sneezing. Allergies, maybe. Though to what in October, I have no idea.
“Practice was good,” Tuck says, his voice low and steady. Solid. Dependable. The kind of voice you lean on. Except if you’re a single mother with a ready-made family.
Nicklas flashes that grin, the one that makes half the town’s single girls forget their own names. It’s unfair, really. The dimple, the swagger, the careless confidence.
But I’m not a girl. I’m a grown woman. And I’m immune.
“Coffee?” I ask.
They flip their cups over in unison and I fill them, the dark liquid curling up in fragrant steam. I only spill a tiny bit on the table, and Tuck quickly mops it up with his napkin.
“Sorry, I’ll bring more.” I clear my throat. “Grabbing a bite?” I ask.
“I want something sweet,” Nicklas says, waggling his brows in a way that would be ridiculous on anyone else. “Something sweet like you.”
I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised I don’t give myself a headache. “Original.”
