Page 33 of Vegas Heat

“Good timing.” She nods toward the belt. “That purple suitcase is mine.”

I grab it off when it comes near us. “Ready?”

“No, I’ve got one more.”

“One more what?” I ask stupidly.

“Suitcase.”

“You broughttwosuitcases for a six-day trip?”

“Honey, yes, of course I did. One of them is filled with stuff for you, though. I did some spring cleaning and found a few things I thought you might want now that you’re settling into San Diego,” she says.

Oh boy.

She pauses as she studies me for a beat. “Oh my God, you met a girl.”

“What?” I ask, the second time in the last five seconds I’ve sounded like a dumbass.

“You met someone!” She claps her hands together and squeals a little. “When can I meet her?”

“Not anytime soon.” I don’t mention that I actually invited her to come home with me and if she hadn’t had plans tomorrow, she’d be meeting my mom right now.

“So thereissomeone? That was a test! You failed!” She grabs onto my arm and hugs it. “Tell me everything about her and leave out not one single detail.”

I laugh. This is going to be a long six days. “I have a lot to tell you, but let’s savesomethingfor the car ride home.”

“Ahh, I’m so excited, my baby boy!” she says, clapping again.

So I get my sunny disposition from her. But she’s more Type A, while my dad was more laid back—I get that from him. My older brother is my opposite. He’s Type A like my mom, but he takes it to the extreme as a successful attorney in Chicago. He’s married to his high school sweetheart and they have two very active boys. He seems like he’s got it all.

“How’s Connor?” I ask.

“Busy busy. He’s got some big case he’s been prepping for, and he’s been in and out of town a lot. I went to Ethan’s summer league baseball game a few days ago, and gosh, every time I watch him play it reminds me of you at that age. And Jacob’s still doing swim. He had a meet a few weeks ago and got second place,” she says, catching me up on the latest news with my nephews.

“And Marissa?” I ask, referring to my sister-in-law.

“Did I tell you she decided not to return this year?” she asks. She and my mom teach at the same school—my mom teachesfirst grade, and Marissa teaches fourth. Or she did until this year, I guess.

I shake my head. “Why?”

“Those little journals she makes went viral on the clock app and she can barely keep up with orders. Between that and the kids, something had to give.”

“The clock app?”

“TikTok,” she clarifies, and I laugh.

“Right. And you?” I ask.

“I go back next Monday for teacher meetings, but I’m all ready for the year. My team and I met over the summer to plan and we even made all our copies for first quarter. We’ve got it down pat, which is why I get to enjoy the last week of summer with my baby boy.” She squeezes my cheeks, and she’s pretty much the only person in the world who could get away with squeezing Cooper Noah’s cheeks in public.

I laugh. It might be a long week, but it’s also going to be a fun week.

The second we’re sealed into the quiet privacy of my truck, the relentless grilling begins. “So this girl…”

“I have other items to discuss first, but I will get to the girl.” I navigate out of the parking lot and pay the exorbitant fee for leaving my truck at the airport, and then I head toward the highway.

“Go for it,” she says, holding her hands out.

---