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“I’ll try to get you an update on that, but if there isn’t one, then I wanted to invite you to come celebrate with us? As a friend of the family,” I hurry to add when his eyes open wide. “I feel bad enough that Johnny and Wes have to work on the Fourth, I wouldn’t make you work too.”

“No, no, I know,” he mumbles, looking down and away. With my arms still wrapped around him, I feel his chest expand with a deep inhale. “I just didn’t think you’d want your sisters to know . . .” He trails off.

It’s the same thing as last time, so I shake my head.

“We can tell them or not, honestly, I’d have no problem with that, but it’s not only up to me. We can just be friends.” I lean in to tease his nose with mine and smirk. “We can even have different bedrooms if you want.”

He shakes his head with an adorable little laugh.

“Of course we’ll have separate bedrooms, Tucker. But yes. Thank you for the invite. It’ll be nice.”

The last part sounds almost like he’s trying to convince himself of that fact, but I know we’ll have a great time, I just have to wait for him to realize it.

For now . . .

“So tonight it’ll just be the two of us, for dinner, and we can set off around midmorning tomorrow?”

“Okay,” he whispers, the little smile his mouth settles into too enticing to pass up.

I don’t let the kiss get out of hand because the anticipation for tonight will just make it all the better.

“So, whatcha doing?” I nod to the notebook, ready to get him thinking about something else before the nerves set it.

Wes grumbles about his day off, but I promise him we won’t leave the house, and he can keep an eye on the cameras from his phone. Only after getting the same promises from Sunny does he leave to go have a nice day with his family.

I make a mental note to ask Rae to help me figure out more off days for him and Johnny—she’s great at puzzles. Or maybe I should just ask them to recommend someone else who can take over three or so days a week, to give them a break.

It all stops mattering when Sunny goes up to his room to have a remote session with his therapist. I don’t ask him if he’s going to tell her about the PI, the messages, or the threats—I don’t want to push. And when he comes back down over an hour later, he doesn’t have to tell me for me to know. His eyes are a bit puffy, and he goes right for a wordless hug.

I’m happy to provide him with the space he needs, and he looks a lot better when he pulls back. More balanced maybe?

The rest of the day we spend watching a movie in the gym, and after we each shower, I send him up to relax for an hour doing whatever he wants or nothing at all while I heat up dinner and—gulp—sear scallops.

I only fear for my life twice, but Angelo’s instructions are spot on, and once I’ve plated everything and set up the cushions on the floor around the coffee table of the living room where I feel we’ve had some of our best moments, I finally go up and knock on the closed bedroom door.

“Come down when you’re ready,” I call out, and wait for him downstairs. I don’t want to seem too pushy, but waiting those two minutes is like torture. I hear his steps coming down, and when I finally catch a glimpse of him I breathe out, relieved he took me at my word.

He’s wearing, as per my specifications, sweatpants and a comfortable T-shirt. I’m wearing the same, only mine are black and blue opposed to his gray and black.

I wanted us both to be absolutely comfortable, and I could tell that gave him pause, though I don’t know why. His eyebrows scrunched up as he frowned in confusion when I told him to wear the most comfortable clothes he had for our date.

I’d be happy with him wearing ratty pajamas, though I don’t even know if he has any of those.

“You look beautiful,” I tell him, and he scoffs, but I shake my head. “You are beautiful, Sunny. So looking beautiful for you isn’t hard.”

I kiss the blush that spreads on his cheeks then take his hand, leading him to the living room and trying not to squirm as he takes in the setup.

“Is it okay?” I don’t give him time to answer. “We can also sit at the dining table or even the kitchen to eat, but I just thought⁠—”

He whirls around and pulls my face down to kiss every thought out of my head.

“I love it,” he whispers when he falls back to his heels. “Thank you.”

“Awesome,” I breathe out, then I walk him to the side of the coffee table and sit at the same time as him without letting go of his hand. I know I’ll have to eventually, but not right now.

“Angelo did most of it,” I tell him as I push his plate toward him and take off the warming cover. “I just heated it up.”

“Yesss,” he hisses, then rewards me with a quick kiss to the lips. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”