“Of course I want kids. How could anyone be around little Sophia and not want to have kids?”
“Then why are you so shocked that I do?”
“Because you’re… you. Mr. Jerky McJerkface, player extraordinaire. I just can’t see you settling down. Is this all just a front? The house, the talk of kids?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Shaking my head, I turn and walk away. I rush down the steps and into the kitchen.
“Chase!” she calls after me. “We’re not done with my tour. If I’m going to be living here, I think you can give me at least that much.”
I’d give you so much more. “Kitchen,” I say flatly. “Over there is the laundry room that leads to the garage. You can park inside if you want. I’ll text you the code, and there is an extra opener hanging by the door in the laundry room. Down that hall is a half bath, the second door leads to the basement, and the bedrooms are all upstairs. Dining room,” I point behind me, “and family room.”
“Gee, thanks,” she sasses.
“Help yourself to whatever you need.” I give her my back as I open the refrigerator and start pulling out the supplies to make chicken stir-fry.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Making dinner.”
“You don’t have to try and impress me, Chase. I’ll be here for three weeks tops. Let’s just stay out of each other’s way.”
“Noted. But for your information, I’m not cooking just because you’re here. It’s dinner time, well past, and I’m starving.”
“So you cook all the time?”
“How else am I supposed to survive?”
She shrugs. “I just assumed you ate out.”
“Well, you know what they say about assuming? You make an ass out of yourself.”
“That’s not exactly how that saying goes,” she corrects.
“Don’t care. It’s the same concept. You assume a hell of a lot about me. Maybe you should calm the fuck down, Ms. Judgey McJudgepants.”
“Har har,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip. She’s trying not to smile and oddly enough, that brightens my mood.
“Have a seat.” I motion to one of the stools that’s next to the island.
She hesitates. “I should probably go unpack some clothes for tomorrow.”
“Dinner will be ready in thirty,” I tell her. She nods and walks out of the kitchen. I can hear her feet as they pad up the stairs. I exhale when she’s no longer in sight. I didn’t think when I asked her to stay with me. I just blurted it out. I have the space, and she was in a jam. However, now that she’s here, now her things are here, I’m not sure I know how to deal. I don’t think I can stick to this “friends only” rule she’s labeled us with. When I stayed with her, it was different; it was me on the couch, making sure she was okay. Now her things are here. My fucking house smells like her.
I don’t hate it.
My cell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glance at the screen and can’t help but smile. Right, on time. “Hey, Mom,” I greet her after wiping my hands on a dish towel.
“Chase, how are you?” she asks.
“I’m good. How are you and Dad?”
“Good. This cruise is amazing. I wish you would have come with us.”
“What? And ruin Dad’s plans for alone time?” I tease.
“Oh, hush.” She laughs. “How’s work?”
“Good. Things are running smoothly. We’re finally back on track after all that drama with Gina.”
“I still can’t believe that. I’m so glad no one was seriously hurt. How’s that sweet baby of Harrison’s?”
“My goddaughter is perfect,” I say, and even I can hear the smile in my voice talking about Sophia.
Mom chuckles. “You ready to make me a grandma?”
“Colton knew what he was doing when he enlisted,” I grumble good-naturedly.
“You leave your brother out of this. He’s serving his country.”
“So he’s off the hook?”
“Not at all. As soon as he’s home safe and sound, I’ll be sure to ask him just the same as I ask you.”
“One day, Mom. One day. I have to fall in love first. You know that’s usually how these things work.”
“How are you going to fall in love if all you ever do is work?”
My eyes travel to the stairs. To Gabby. I can’t see her, but I know she’s there. “I’m working on it,” I tell her.
“Who is she?” she asks with interest.
“Oh, no you don’t, woman. You’re not getting any names. No, I won’t bring her to dinner. No, you can’t meet her. Just… no. It’s new, and we’re not even really dating,” I confess. My earlier “friends” conversation with Gabby flashes through my mind.
“Chase,” she whines.
“You’re on vacation,” I remind her. “Where’s Dad?”
“He went to pick our clothes up from the laundry. They do our laundry. Can you believe that?”
“It’s a three-week cruise.”
“I know. I’m being pampered. I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with myself when we get back home.”