Page 35 of The Pucker and the Princess
Part of me wants to dig into that, but she’s walking toward the front door, leaving me no choice but to jog a couple steps to catch up to her. I ring the doorbell, and the front door swings open seconds later to reveal two kids bouncing with excitement. “Uncle Dozer! Uncle Dozer! Pick us up! Pick us up!”
“Kids,” comes Tina’s voice. “Is that how you welcome guests?”
Then Nick swoops in, tossing his youngest—Noah—up and over his shoulder. “You little beggars. You want everyone to pick you up!” he scolds them playfully.
They giggle and Noah squeals, then Shelby, who’s five, hops from foot to foot. “I want a turn, Daddy! I want a turn!”
I glance at Marissa to see her wide eyed, and I realize I didn’t adequately prepare her for the tornado that is the experience of Nick and Tina’s kids.
“We hang out a lot,” I say quietly. “The kids know me pretty well.”
“I can see that,” she murmurs.
Reaching for Shelby, I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder like Nick has her little brother, making her squeal and wriggle. “Careful!” I caution. “Squirm too much and I might drop you.”
“No! Don’t drop me!” It’s a shrill cry, nearly daring me to do it.
Grinning, I fake like I’m going to drop her, letting her fall a few inches before catching her, making her squeal even louder.
“Uncle Dozer!”
I do it a few more times before crouching down and gently setting her on her feet.
She’s grinning as she swipes the hair out of her face. “I knew you wouldn’t drop me,” she says defiantly.
“Never,” I promise, swiping her hair back into her face.
Face scrunched in annoyance, she moves the hair away with one hand and whacks me on the shoulder with the other. “Uncle Dozer,” she scolds, “don’t do that.”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “My deepest apologies, your highness.” She scampers off when her mom calls her, and I straighten up to find Marissa watching me with amusement from the entryway where she’s still standing, holding the pie plate in both hands, a long skinny gift bag holding a bottle of wine dangling from one hand.
“Hi,” Tina says, swooping in and reaching for the pie. “You must be Marissa. Dozer’s told us about you. Sorry for the poor manners around here.” She shoots me a censorious look. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to introduce people rather than abandoning your guest while you horse around with the kids? They can wait five minutes for you to make proper introductions.”
Sticking my hands in my pockets, I level an assessing look at Noah—who’s still squirming in Nick’s arms as he holds him up, lets him almost drop, then pulls him close and tickles him—and Shelby, who’s nearly hiding behind her mom now that she realizes there’s a stranger present. She watches Marissa with wide eyes, a finger between her lips like she’s uncertain what to make of my new friend.
“Everyone, this is Marissa. She just moved into my building right before preseason training started. She’s new to the area, and her family’s all in Texas.”
“Well,” she puts in. “That’s not entirely true. My brother lives in Spokane now, and my little sister’s home base is in California. She travels a lot, though, so there’s really no telling where she is at any given time.”
“That sounds exciting,” Tina says, ushering Marissa further into the house.
“Oh, should I take off my shoes?” Marissa asks, noticing the family all in sock feet.
But Tina waves her off. “Only if you want to.”
Biting her lip, Marissa meets my eyes, and I shrug. “It’s really up to you,” I reassure her, then nod toward the kitchen, where Tina’s carrying the pie and bottle of wine.
“Thank you so much for bringing this,” Tina says, setting her burdens on the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the main living area. “What kind of pie did you bring?”
Marissa clears her throat and tucks her hair behind her ear. “It’s a chocolate chip pie. It’s from a recipe book my mom has from a bakery down in Texas.” Her accent is as thick as I’ve ever heard it, and I wonder if she’s laying it on thick on purpose or if it’s just nerves. My money’s on nerves, though I’m not a hundred percent sure why she’s so nervous. Surely this can’t be as difficult as taking over an office full of hostile dudes who don’t understand why some chick got promoted over them to sales manager for the northwest region when they’ve been there holding each other’s dicks for years.
At least that’s my understanding of her office politics based on the things she’s vented about since we started hanging out.
“Oh, that sounds delicious,” Tina gushes, then pulls the bottle of wine out of its bag with a pleased sound. “You’re so thoughtful. What do you see in our Dozer?”
Marissa gives a nervous chuckle, darting a look in my direction. “Oh, well, you know. I can’t help rushing to assist a damsel in distress.”
Tina’s brows pull together in confusion, and even Nick jerks his head my way, eyebrows arched in question.
