Every Saturday Night (Firsts and Forever 6)

“I guess it’s just taking me a minute to reframe what I thought I knew about you,” he said.

“This doesn’t have to change anything. We’re just two people enjoying each other’s company. I’m not out shopping for a second dad for my baby or anything.”

“No, I know.” He studied his hands as he said, “I’m moving back to Miami at the beginning of July anyway, so that’s all this can be—just two people having fun together.”

Wow, okay, so he had an information bomb of his own. “Why are you moving back?”

“My dad’s in his early seventies and ready to retire. It was always the plan that I’d take over the family business when I turned thirty. That means going back home.”

“That’s why you acted like turning thirty was a bad thing,” I said, as some random pieces of an earlier conversation fell into place. “You don’t want to go back.” But he was a dutiful son, so of course he was going. I glanced at the chess board in the corner, the one where he was intentionally losing the game to his father, and more pieces fell into place.

“I haven’t exactly been looking forward to it, but my dad’s counting on me.”

Before I could reply, my phone beeped. I glanced at the text and told Lucky, “My brother’s outside.”

We walked across the room together, and he hit the button on the wall to open the garage door. While we waited for it to rise, he surprised me by asking, “Can we do this again next Saturday? I’d love to make you dinner.”

“Are you sure?” When he nodded, I said, “I’d love to come over, but dinner doesn’t really work for me. I want to put the baby to bed and make sure he’s asleep before I go anywhere.”

“In that case, come over at nine o’clock again, or whatever works for you. I’ll be here.”

“Great. Can I have your number?” I handed him my phone, and after he entered the information and gave it back to me, I sent him a quick text. “Now you have mine too, so you can message me if there’s a change of plans.”

Lucky remembered something just then and blurted, “Oh, hang on.” He dashed across the garage and returned with the white T-shirt with the dragon on it. As he handed it to me, he said, “I told you I’d give this to you.”

“Thanks.”

Both of us hesitated. There was so much more to say after those information bombs, but time had run out. The door was open and Lark was parked at the curb, watching us. Finally, I gave Lucky a hug and said, “See you next week,” before jogging to the truck.

When we started to leave, I glanced back at him. He was still standing at the curb, watching me drive off.

As I fastened my seatbelt, Lark asked, “Did you have fun on your date?”

“The first half hour was great. He’d collected all these games and made us drinks and this amazing charcuterie board—”

“Nice, a shark coochie board.”

I chuckled and said, “I know you’ve heard of a charcuterie board before. Dylan’s always making them for the two of you.”

“He does, and I always call it that because the real word is a tongue twister. If Lucky made you one of those, it means he likes you.”

“When Dylan makes you one, it means he likes you,” I clarified. “You two have this whole love language around food. It’s not as packed with meaning for most people.”

My brother glanced at me as he pulled up to a stoplight. “What does that mean, the part about a love language?”

“People have different ways of showing someone they love them. For you and your boyfriend, making a nice meal is a tangible way of expressing your love for each other.”

“Okay, but a lot of couples cook for each other.”

“Right, but it means more to you than most people, probably because of the way you and I grew up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s face it, we were pretty neglected. There were plenty of times when nobody bothered to pack a lunch for us or put dinner on the table. Eventually, we learned to fend for ourselves, but now, if someone makes an effort and prepares a nice meal for us, it feels like a big deal. That’s why food is an important part of your relationship with your boyfriend, and also why you’d naturally assume something like a fancy charcuterie board meant more than Lucky intended.”

Lark mulled that over before saying, “So…you don’t think he likes you?”

“I don’t know.”