Page 28 of Saving Tatum (Trace + Olivia 4)

I jogged up the front steps and rang the doorbell.

Rowan let us inside and led us back through the house towards the kitchen.

I screamed when I saw something furry scurry across the floor. Somehow, I ended up grabbing ahold of Jude’s arm and hiding half-behind him. As soon as I realized what I’d done I released him and stepped away, my cheeks tinged pink.

“That’s just Bartholomew,” Rowan explained. At my continued befuddled appearance she added, “Trent’s ferret.”

“Oh,” I nodded, “the ferret. Of course. I thought it was a mouse,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Rowan continued, “the table’s set, so you guys can sit down with the kids. Trent and I have this covered.”

She didn’t wait for us to reply, with a swish of her long light brown hair she was gone.

Jude nodded his head towards the table. We didn’t make it very far before we heard, “Hey, Jude!” In a sing-song voice.

“The kid never gets tired of that,” he chuckled.

“At least he has good taste in music for a six year old,” I smiled.

Tristan, Rowan and Trent’s son, appeared at the top of the stairs running down them towards us. Well, not us, but to Jude.

Jude lowered so that the small boy crashed into his waiting arms, giving him a giant bear hug. Standing, Jude spun Tristan around, his high-pitched shrieks of delight echoing through the space.

“Don’t kill my son!” Rowan called from the kitchen.

“Fun sucker,” Jude and Tristan said at the same time.

I shook my head, looking around for Ivy—Rowan’s nine year old little sister that lived with them. She came down the steps too, although not as enthusiastically as Tristan. Ivy was a sweet girl, but I knew the last year or so had been rough on her emotionally. With her morose expression and overall melancholy appearance I wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug her.

“Hi, Ivy, how are you?” I asked, suppressing a laugh as Jude ran around with Tristan’s arms wrapped around his neck, the boy hanging down his back like a cape.

“I’m good,” she replied softly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She looked up at me with wide, doll-like, eyes. “How are you?”

Ivy was always so polite, sounding more like someone middle-aged than the young girl she really was.

“I’m doing okay. Your hair looks pretty like that,” I commented, noticing she had two strand pulled back in a braid, secured with an elastic.

“Thank you,” she smiled, maneuvering around me to get to the table.

I sat down too, while Jude and Tristan continued to play.

Trent carried out a large dish, the scent of garlic and marinara lingering in the air. My stomach rumbled and I longed to dig in.

“Be careful with him,” Trenton warned Jude.

As soon as Trent was gone, Jude looked at me and rolled his eyes. He mouthed, “Overprotective.”

A few minutes later we were all seated, ready to eat.

Trent cooked most of their meals because he really enjoyed it. Tonight he’d made homemade lasagna. My mouth watered at the heavenly aroma. Between Jude’s grandpa and now this, I was getting spoiled.

Jude cut a piece and set it on my plate. I gaped at him and he shrugged, a small smile threatening to tug up his lips. His gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Rowan and she watched us sharply. She didn’t miss anything.

I took a bite and flavors exploded across my tongue. Taking a sip of ice water, I told Trent, “This is delicious. Thanks for having us over.”

Trent set his fork down, looking across at where Jude and I sat. “Wait…” His head swiveled towards Rowan. “Are they together now?”

I snorted, not only at his question, but at how he addressed Rowan instead of us.

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