Rushed (Adventures in Love 1)

“Yeah, but I slept a lot longer than I thought I would.”

“You were tired.” He shrugs, then lifts his head and frowns when there’s a loud knock on the front door.

“Expecting someone?”

“No.” He hands me the spatula he was holding. “Can you keep an eye on this?”

“Sure.” I take it, and he kisses the top of my head before leaving the room. A moment later I hear the front door open, then what sounds like a woman speak. Feeling something uncomfortable settle in the pit of my stomach, I set down the spatula, then quietly peek around the corner and watch an older woman with dark-brown hair that’s cut into a stylish bob place a few plastic containers into Tanner’s hands. She then reaches up to pat his cheek affectionately.

“You can come in and meet her,” Tanner says, turning in my direction, so I duck back quickly and rush to the stove, pretending I wasn’t just spying on him. A second later, the two of them appear around the corner, and I know instantly that the woman is Blake’s mom. They might not have the same hair color, but her eyes and features are almost identical to her son’s.

“Cybil, I’d like you to meet Janet, Blake’s mom. Mom, this is Cybil,” Tanner says, setting the containers on the island, completely missing the way her face softened when he called her Mom.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” I smile as Tanner comes around to take the spatula from me. “Tanner told me that you’re responsible for all the delicious food I ate this week. You’re an amazing cook.”

“It was fun trying some new recipes, so I’m glad you enjoyed everything.” She motions to the containers. “That’s why I stopped by. There were some leftovers and dessert from last night that I didn’t want to go to waste.”

I don’t believe her, not even a little. My guess is she heard I was staying here, and like any good mama bear, she came to check me out and see what her cub was up to. And honestly, that makes me like her even more, especially after finding out today that Tanner didn’t have that in his life growing up.

“Thank you, it won’t go to waste,” I say, and she nods; then her eyes drop to my hand.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Better. The pain pills are kicking my butt, but I’m definitely better than I was yesterday. Tanner’s been taking good care of me.”

“I’m sure he has been.” She smiles softly, then glances at the watch on her wrist. “Darn, I need to get home to make dinner myself before Dave burns down the house. It was nice meeting you, Cybil. I’m sure I’ll see you this week for dinner.” She looks to Tanner for confirmation.

“We’ll set it up,” he assures her, and she nods. Then, after a quiet goodbye, Tanner walks her to the door. When he comes back a few minutes later, I can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You do realize that she only stopped by to make sure you didn’t invite a crazy woman to stay with you, right?”

“No, she didn’t,” he denies with a shake of his head.

“She totally did.” I take a seat on one of the barstools, and he looks toward the door, seeming surprised by the thought. “It’s sweet that you call her Mom.”

“Yeah.” His expression gentles. “When Blake, Mav, and I would get time off, we’d come here, and after about the third visit, she started insisting we call her Mom. We didn’t fight her on it. She’s a good woman.”

“She loves you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but I know it is, especially given his relationship with his own parents. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes.” I start to stand but stop when he shakes his head.

“Stay. Just tell me what you wanna drink. I have pop, water, and juice. I’ve also got beer and wine, but you can’t drink with that pill.”

“Juice, please.” With a nod, he grabs two plates, setting them on the counter before taking beans and tortillas from the oven and sour cream, salsa, and cheese from the fridge. Once he has everything laid out, he pours us each some juice, then takes a seat next to me. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Anytime.” He turns his head my way and leans in, so I smile and touch my mouth to his.

An hour later, stuffed full, I watch from the stool I haven’t been allowed to move from as he shoves the dishes into the dishwasher, and I somehow manage with a whole lot of willpower not to tell him he’s doing it wrong or to cringe when he doesn’t rinse things off. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” I ask, watching the gunk-covered pan go into the dishwasher, and he gives me the same look he’s given me every time I’ve asked. “Okay, do you mind if I call Jade’s parents?”