Page 103 of My Craving

The little fucker walks away before I can grab him.

I follow him to the front door as his parents pull up. His dad gets out first, throws up a hand when he sees us, and goes around the car to open the passenger door. Susan takes his hand getting out, but as soon as she sees Nash, she lets go and heads straight for him.

Nash meets her halfway, and they wrap their arms around each other and start doing some weird bouncing thing while they hug and laugh. I’ve heard him talk about his parents enough to know they’re close. Seeing it is different. Nash doesn’t hesitate to touch the people he loves, and apparently neither does his mother.

David watches them for a few seconds, then comes over and holds out his hand. I shake it.

“They’ll be a minute.” He looks back at them. “I’ll get our bags.”

“I’ll help you.”

We leave them outside and head for the car. Two suitcases sit in the back, along with a cooler David insists on carrying himself. By the time we get everything upstairs, Nash and his mom finally come inside. He still has an arm around her when they reach us.

“Mom, this is Duncan. Duncan, this is Susan.”

I hold out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Susan looks at it, slaps it away, and wraps both arms around my waist.

Well, fuck.

Her head barely reaches the center of my chest. I stand there for a second with no idea what to do before putting my arms around her. Over the top of her head, Nash is grinning at me.

Asshole.

“Come on, Mom, we have some snacks in the living room. You guys have to be tired from your drive.”

Susan puts one arm around Nash as they head toward the living room, and David walks beside me.

“You’ll get used to that. She hugs everyone she likes.”

I look at him. Apparently, I passed something without even knowing I was being tested. Nash sits beside his mother while David takes a chair across from them. I pour the bourbon and wine I set out earlier and carry it over.

David takes the glass. Taking a sip. “Damn, this is the good stuff. What’s the brand?”

“Dad, you just drank a car payment.”

David laughs before taking another drink.

Nash laughs when I sit beside him, but the way he shifts before leaning into me tells me his side is bothering him. I put my arm behind him and pull him closer so he doesn’t have to twist. His mother catches it.

“You told me you were doing better.”

“I am doing better. I’m still sore, and I get tired faster than I want to, but the doctor is happy with how I’m healing. Duncan makes sure I follow every restriction whether I like it or not.”

“He nearly died. He can be pissed at me for as long as he wants.”

Susan squeezes his knee. “I’m perfectly fine with him pissing you off if it keeps you from doing something stupid while you heal.”

“I already have one of you following me around the house. Please don’t encourage him.”

His mother smiles and goes back to her sandwich while Nash settles against me. Thankfully, we move away from the hospital talk after that. Susan starts asking about the house because apparently Nash telling her it was big didn’t come close to preparing her for it. David is more interested in the property and how far back the land goes. Nash uses both conversations as an excuse to tell them I own more rooms than any one person needs and probably don’t know what half of them are for.

He’s full of shit, but his parents are enjoying it, so I let him keep going. I’ve been waiting since they got here for one of them to bring up the fifteen years between us. Or ask how serious this is. Something. Instead, Susan wants to know why Nash hasn’t added more color to the living room, David wants to know what kind of trees are at the back of the property. Apparently, I worked myself up over nothing.

At some point, Susan starts telling me about Nash trying to run away when he was seven because she wouldn’t let him have cake for breakfast. He packed two shirts and a flashlight, stole the cake from the kitchen, and made it all the way to the end of the driveway before dropping it.

“You left out the important part. It was chocolate cake, and Joey had already stuck both hands in it.”

Susan laughs. “He was two. He stuck his hands in everything.”