“Soon,” he agreed.
“I’m sorry I was grouchy about my cooking, mon beau, I know you were teasing.”
“You letting it all hang out on my couch a couple of weeks ago doesn’t make it all go away.”
Some of her brightness dimmed, she rested her hands on his stomach and said, “Yes.”
“I don’t think I have to say it again, but I will. I’m here for you. It’s not just my job as your man, it’s my privilege.”
She clicked her teeth but didn’t attempt to hide she got off on that.
He grinned.
“As for LA, go. You probably figured this out, but my job includes travel. It happens mostly in the summer, when we do the vast majority of our hikes, but I wanted Rix to take me to New Mexico where we’ll be shooting. We can do that while you’re in Cali.”
“Perfect,” she whispered.
He took in her gorgeous face in his kitchen with the smell of the dinner she cooked for him filling the air.
But he decided not to give it to her, not now, he didn’t want to wake the she-beast with Chloe skating through a vulnerable place.
This being getting into the fact that not one of his girlfriends made dinner for him in his kitchen.
In their own?
Yes.
Making themselves at home in his and what that communicated about how they felt about him?
No.
So yeah, she was very right.
Perfect.
“Zeke been out?” he asked.
“We took a walk about an hour ago. You have nice neighbors.”
He grinned again.
“When’s dinner?”
“It should be done in about ten minutes, but it can rest.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Good.”
“Coco?”
“Yes?”
“I like coming home to you.”
That got the bright back.
And more.
She threw her arms around his neck, pressed deep even as she slid up to her toes, and kissed him hard.
They made the salad together while the tartiflette rested.
It tasted just as it smelled.
Awesome.
* * *
Three weeks later…
He was on his deck with the beer, the waning sun, his dog, his phone, a bag upstairs in his room needing to be unpacked after his return from New Mexico and the vague idea of grilling hamburgers when his phone went with a FaceTime call.
Chloe.
He answered and saw she too was on a deck, the sun shining far more brightly on her since it was reflecting off an ocean, and her hair was swaying in a gentle breeze.
She looked stunning.
Who said California girls had to be blondes?
“Hey, gorgeous, how’s it going?” he greeted.
“Hello, chéri,” she replied, but said no more.
He smiled to hide his concern. “So…how’s it going?”
She’d been there since Wednesday. It was now Saturday.
She’d warned him her time would be a whirlwind because they were beginning the wedding preparations with her mom (something Genny, and Chloe concurred, said had to be started by the selection of the gown—no other plans could be made until the gown was decided, which reportedly was frustrating Duncan, who was down to marry her wearing boots and jeans and flannels by his lake, but Genny wanted to do it up big, and Judge saw that—they’d waited a long time for this celebration).
But also she’d be busy because she was “home.”
She had friends to see, and they all had old haunts they wanted to visit. Not to mention, Hale was in town so there was family time.
He’d received a ton of texts.
But this was the first time they spoke.
He’d been busy too with Rix, hiking trails and making decisions on locations.
But even so, it made him twitchy.
That feeling came from them being apart when, since they got together, they were together and spent a lot of time in each other’s company.
It also came from her being there.
With Sasha.
In that house.
And LA, where she said she wanted to end up living.
“It…well, my mother never ceases to amaze me,” she said as her opener.
“Explain,” he ordered.
Her expression shifted with amusement before she did as told.
“We’re everywhere here, Judge. Us and also, even though Uncle Corey wasn’t a very there dad, Hale.”
He didn’t get it. “Right, now explain that.”
“He has pictures of us. Everywhere. If you didn’t know him, you’d walk into this house and think we were his family. His kids. His wife. Though, Dad’s all over the place too. He…”
She took a second.
He gave her that second.
“He really loved us,” she shared. “And I think that’s why Mom doesn’t want Hale to sell. This is like a temple to the people in his life Uncle Corey cared about. That being Hale, Mom, Matt, Sasha, me, my grandparents, I mean Mom’s folks, and also Dad.”
“Shit, baby,” he murmured.
“I’ve been here, of course,” she continued. “And I saw some photos, but I hadn’t been here in years. They multiplied. By a lot. When we were kids. Teens. Sasha playing volleyball. Matt playing tennis. Me behind the wheel of the convertible he owned that I loved that he let me drive all the time.”
This had to be a lot to process.