Page 64 of The Last Thing
I think.
“It’s so pretty inside!” Sophia says, jumping out of the car and hurrying toward the front porch.
Deck—Wilson—moves slower. Waiting for me.
He not so subtly takes my hand, and I almost freak out for a second, but I tell myself it’s fine. He’s helping me up the stairs. Like a gentleman.
Sophia doesn’t bother knocking or waiting, and when we get to the door, Linnie is already walking toward it.
I instantly tear my hand from Deck’s.Shit.Wilson’s. My throat feels thick as I glance over at him, finding his eyes shifted to me, and his hand… he’s flexing it. Like a full-on Mr. Darcy hand flex.
Son of a bitch.
Forget a sledge hammer. The man is coming for my heart with a bulldozer.
“That wasthe most delicious meal I’ve had in a long time. I love moussaka.”
Linnie smiles warmly at me. She’s an incredible cook, and it’s the first home cooked meal I’ve had in a while that didn’t make me nauseous.
“It settled okay with your stomach?” Linnie asks.
We came up with a story that I have a sensitive stomach issue that flares up sometimes for Sophia’s sake.
“Yes. It did. Thank you.”
“It always settles good in my tummy,” Sophia says. “Nana’s a great cook.”
Wilson gently runs his hand over my upper back, subtly enough that no one would notice. But I notice.
I could be in the pitch black with no idea which way was up, and one touch from Wilson and I’d know it was him.
There’s nothing like the sparks that go off in my body when his skin touches mine.
I lean into it, just the tiniest bit, and as I do, my eyes drift past him to the window on the back door and the backyard beyond.
“The backyard looks beautiful. Tell me you do idyllic things like sit on the back porch and drink iced tea or play yard games. If I had a yard like that, I’d force everyone outside to play yard games each night.”
Linnie’s gaze narrows slightly. “Hm. When was the last time we played a yard game?”
Wilson meets her gaze, emotion swimming in his eyes. “Must’ve been before Dad died. He usually instigated that. Game of croquet or bocce.”
“Oh, I love bocce ball. Sometimes after family dinners, we’d go to the park nearby and play.”
But then I fully process what he said.
It’s been a decade since they played?
I’m not sure exactly what it is about it that makes me sad. Maybe because it was clearly something special they did once, and it was special to me growing up. Sophia should have that. It’s clear she wants the big, boisterous family. Maybe, in some small way, I can give it to her.
“I still have the bocce ball set out in the shed. Should we dig it out?” Linnie asks.
“Yes!” Sophia exclaims.
Wilson laughs. “You don’t even know what it is.”
“Well, I want to learn.”
“You play as teams of two. There’s a little ball you throw, then heavier big balls that you have to try to get as close to the little ball as possible. You can even use your balls to knock the other team’s balls out of the way. It’s all about figuring out the perfect throw.”
