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“That sounds like hell,” I told her honestly. I wasn’t a big fan of workouts that had you pedaling madly to nowhere. I loved fresh air. Give me an ATV and I was in heaven. Hiking and swimming? I was there. But riding a bike in a studio? Not my thing at all.
She laughed. “Well, this pregnancy all I’m doing is floating in the pond like an inflatable whale and eating cupcakes. I’ve eaten half of the inventory at Sugar Lips this week, I swear.”
“I doubt that. You look amazing. And what’s wrong with relaxing during your pregnancy? It’s not like you’ll be able to relax once the baby is here.”
“You’re right. I just feel guilty. Like I’m supposed to be doing it all.”
“You’ve been doing it all for fifteen years. Take a break.”
She patted my knee. “Thanks. You’re right. How are you doing? I know this has been hard for you, living in kid chaos. You don’t even go out or do anything social.”
That was true. “I don’t have any friends here. There’s nowhere for me to go.”
“What about dating?”
“What’s that?”
Sera laughed. “Download an app to meet friends and guys.”
“But now I’m moving so it doesn’t even matter.”
“You don’t seem upset about moving to a small town in Kentucky. I thought you wanted city life.”
“I thought I did too, but I don’t know. Everything is really confusing right now. I’m not sure what I want.” The only thing I was sure of was that I was unsure.
“I think that’s normal for your age.”
“But also why I shouldn’t date right now. I don’t even know what I want. Look at Mom and Dad and you and Cash. You’re in it for the long haul. How can I long haul when I don’t know where I’m going?”
“Who says it has to be forever if you just want to date?”
“Exactly,” Hank said as he brought two plates to us. “I never think about forever when I’m dating.”
“You don’t even think about a second date when you’re dating.” I used air quotes around dating to emphasize that he was a hit it and quit it guy. I took a plate from him. It was a stack of fluffy goodness. “Oooh, what’s this?”
“Bananas Foster pancakes.”
“Holy crap, these are good,” Sera said, her mouth already full. “Thank you, Hank.”
“Yum.” I took a fork from Hank and dug in.
“Make sure you drop some on that shirt so you have to change,” he said, pushing his sleeves up. His arms were covered in tattoos, a hallmark of the modern chef.
“Your hatred of my outfit is more emotion than I’ve seen you express in two years.”
“I really hate it,” he said, clearly not offended or in disagreement.
The doorbell rang. “Shoot. That must be MacKay.” I shoveled two large bites into my mouth, dribbling syrup down my chin accidentally. I swiped at it and hopped up to get the door.
I was still sucking syrup off of my fingertip when I swung the door open. MacKay froze, gaze dipping down to my lips.
Damn it. I quickly pulled my finger out of my mouth. “Hi. I was just eating breakfast but I’m ready. Let me grab my bag,” I said breathlessly. I swiveled and started back to the kitchen.
I intended for him to just hover in the doorway while I turned and grabbed my bag, but he followed me. Which made sense. He’d been in this house dozens of times. He was comfortable there.
So comfortable that when Hank offered him some pancakes, he accepted the offer and settled in at the kitchen island. “Shouldn’t I go invite Dylan in?” I asked. “He’s going to wonder what’s taking us so long.”
“Oh, he’s not with me. He went last night by myself.”
