I smooth her hair back and watch the lines on her face soften, the tight edges around her eyes giving way to relief. “Everything’s okay, Maria,” I murmur, letting my fingers linger at the nape of her neck.
“Okay,” she breathes out, her voice barely more than a whisper. “That…really scared me.”
I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She glances up at me, eyes wide, vulnerable. “Go say hello to the boys,” I say, my voice gentle but firm. “And then we’ll talk. Meet me in the kitchen.”
The kitchen.
Where I can never seem to keep my hands to myself.
Not your best move, dude, not when she was just on a date with another guy.
I help her shrug off her coat, and hang it in the closet as she walks toward the living room. I head into the kitchen, pouring her a glass of wine, as I give her a quiet moment with her boys.
Honestly, the call had shaken me too. My first thought was getting to them, getting them to safety, here with me. Once that happened, I hesitated on calling her. Of course she needed to know, but I didn’t want to ruin her date.
Not even a little bit.
Okay…maybe I wanted to ruin it a little bit. But definitely not like this.
Voices echo down the hall. Lucas recounts the rain, the fog, the moment the car slipped out of control. They laugh nervously, assuring her they’re fine, then ask if they can stay the night. She hesitates, and then, finally, relents.
As soon as I know I don’t have to go out into the night, I crack a beer, lean against the counter. When Maria steps into the kitchen, the air seems to change. Every fiber of me reacts to her presence—the tilt of her head, the little bite of her lip, the way she moves toward me, the way she fell into my arms at the door, like I was her lifeline, like she needed me.
“Sit,” I command softly.
She obeys, sliding into the chair and I set the glass of wine in front of her, watching the way her fingers curl around it.
“Did you eat?” I ask, trying to sound casual. “If not, I can make something, or we can order in.”
“This is how you’re going to take care of me?”
“For the moment.” I arch a brow, letting her know that later, however, I have very different plans.
Her smile softens. “We just finished eating when you called.” She dramatically wipes her brow. “Thank goodness.”
“Thank goodness?”
She chuckles, and I can tell she’s aiming for lightness. “I don’t want a repeat of the summer salad fiasco.”
I shake my head. “Will I ever live that down?”
“No, because no one could keep anything ‘down’ after it,” she teases.
“Okay, no salad. The boys did have pizza, though. I hope that’s okay.”
“Tuck—” Her voice drops low, shaky, like she’s trying to rein in something that wants to spill out. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s just pizza,” I shrug, but my gaze doesn’t leave hers.
“It’s this,” she says instead, voice small, pointing vaguely around the room. “They shouldn’t have called you. You’re not responsible for them.”
I drop down onto the chair next to her, close enough that the warmth of her knees brush mine. “It was too late for them to call Grant,” I explain, watching her play with the rim of her glass. “They didn’t want him on the roads. And you…you were on a date. They didn’t want to disturb you. They want that for you, Maria.” Even as those words leave my mouth they taste bitter on my tongue.
She tilts her head, eyes glimmering with that soft vulnerability that always gets me. “But?—”
“It’s okay that they called me,” I say.
Honestly, I’m glad they did and that truth sneaks in between the cracks of my carefully constructed walls. I had been avoiding getting close to the boys, pretending it wasn’t my responsibility. But standing here, seeing her relief, watching them safe and trusting me, I realize…I actually like being needed.
