Page 118 of Pucking Tangled
“You started it.”
They ate cross-legged on the floor around the coffee table like broke college kids.
Casey picked all the onions out of Mia’s fried rice and sneakily added extra crab rangoon to her plate. Waylon offered her a bite of his sesame chicken, then pouted dramatically when she took the biggest piece.
Owen kept her drink topped off and Luca made sure she never had to lift a finger unless she wanted to.
“Still good?” he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
She turned her head, and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “So good.”
Her voice was quiet. Full. Content in a way that made his chest ache.
They didn’t talk about what had happened earlier. Not yet. No debrief. No analysis. It wasn’t time.
For now, there was orange chicken and beef and broccoli and an argument about whether Mia could beat Waylon at Mario Kart (she could).
There was peace.
There washome.
They weren’t just figuring this outanymore.
They werelivingit.
As the day turned into night, the guys rounded up blankets and pillows again.
Built a makeshift nest for all of them in the middle of the living room floor.
“Do they sell beds bigger than a king size?” Waylon asked.
“Google it,” Luca retorted.
So he did. “Oh shit. They actually make something called a family bed. Says it can fit up to five comfortably.”
“Order it.” Owen nodded in approval.
“It’s twelve feet wide by six and a half feet long,” Waylon continued.
“Not enough room for Skeeter too,” Mia said, yawning.
As if proving a point, the dog stretched out right next to Mia and looked at the guys as if he was daring them to tell him to move.
“Listen, fur ball, she’s ours, too.” Waylon tried to squeeze in.
“Skeeter, move,” Casey said with a chuckle.
The dog got up with a huff and moved down near her feet.
“You’re so mean,” Mia glared at both of them playfully.
Everyone found their place and got comfortable, each of them touching Mia, anchoring themselves to her as they drifted off to sleep.
FORTY-ONE
Casey
Casey feltsomeone nudge his foot. He moved, trying not to disturb the dog curled behind his knees. Skeeter huffed at the motion and tucked his head under the blanket like the sunlight offended him personally.
