Page 35 of Surrender

“I can take him.”

“Sit.”

She extends her arms toward us. “Really, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

I level her with an unmovable expression. “Precisely. Sit. Enjoy the meal you just cooked. With both hands.”

The breath of air she forcefully releases lifts a strand of hair from where it lies against her flushed cheek.

“Why do you always do that?”

I look up from feeding Bennett a limp piece of pasta. “Do what?”

“Hold him while we eat.” She talks to the plate she’s filling for Lucy rather than meet my eye.

“Do you remember my sister, Cortney? She’s a single mom too. I remember her coming over to a family dinner when her son, Oliver, was just a baby. She was running late and had rushed in with her hands filled with the diaper bag and the car seat. When she sat at the table, she burst into tears and said, I just want to eat a meal with both hands. I’d never thought of that before, but I never forgot it. I think we all tripped over ourselves to take Oliver from her.” The corner of my lips twitches at the memory.

“Who won?”

“What?”

“Who was the first one to take Oliver from her.”

“Jude.”

She fills her own plate and settles into her chair with a soft look in her eyes. “I would have guessed Corjan.”

“Not a bad assumption. Up until Bree left him, he would have been first to offer. After that, he almost looked pained anytime he was tasked with holding Oliver.”

With everyone else served, I dish myself last. My mouth waters at the creamy dish waiting to be devoured.

“She left him?”

“Yeah. About a year or so after they’d married.”

“What happened?”

The twirled fork of spaghetti pauses in front of my mouth. “I think that’s her story to tell.”

“I can imagine that was hard. They were pretty serious. I’d never seen two people more in love.”

“We thought the same. But it all worked out in the end.” Done waiting, I shovel my fork in my mouth.

Holy shit.

The flavor explodes on my tongue, and I immediately secure another bite. “This is incredible.”

Whitney’s cheeks flush beneath the glow of the overhead light. “Thanks. It’s something edible I can whip up quick.”

“Babe, just to say, I live off the specials they’re serving down at The Rocks and whatever I manage to cook myself, which isn’t much. This is more than just something edible.”

“It’s easy.”

“Whitney.” I level her with my eyes. “Take the compliment.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she murmurs.

“Do you like to cook?”

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