I’m nice.”
“I’d never insult you that way.”
God, she loved this man with every fiber of her being.
“But I am kinda concerned about you making a new friend and deciding to make cupcakes in the same day. Who are you, and what’ve you done with my Samantha?”
“I haven’t made the cupcakes yet, so don’t get too excited.”
“If you’re around, I’m excited. That’s just how it goes.”
Scotty came into the kitchen in time to catch that comment and made a loud groan. “Dear God. Does it ever end? Is there ever a time when you’re not talking about that?”
“We weren’t actually talking about that, if you must know,” Nick said. “We were actually talking about cupcakes.”
“Is that, like, a metaphor? We learned about them in English class. It’s when you use one word when you mean something else altogether. And with you two, it’s always about the something else.”
Sam, who’d been trying to hold it together, lost it laughing. She loved him as much as she loved his father.
“It’s not funny,” Scotty said. “A man ought to be able to get a bowl of ice cream in his own house without having to put up with this nonsense.”
Nick bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh hysterically.
Scotty made a big production of getting out a bowl, a spoon and the ice cream. “Anyone want some? You could use some cooling off.”
“I’ll have some,” Sam said.
“Make it a double,” Nick added.
Scotty served up cookies-and-cream ice cream to the three of them and sat with them at the table. After his second bite, he glanced at them. “I heard what you did today.”
“What did we do today?” Sam asked, glancing at Nick. She wanted to hear the details in Scotty’s words.
“You went to see that reporter who asked the offensive question, and then you gave her an interview about adoption and proper terminology.”
“Oh,” Nick said. “That.”
Scotty shot him a withering look. “You knew what I was talking about.” He took a huge bite of ice cream, and, talking with his mouth full, he said, “It was cool that you did that.”
“It was kind of fun,” Sam said. “You should’ve seen the looks we got when we walked into that newsroom unannounced.”
“You didn’t tell them you were coming?” Scotty asked.
“Nope. We just showed up.”
“Holy crap. Imagine minding your own business at work and the VP and his wife come walking in. That reporter must’ve been shitting a brick.”
“I’m supposed to tell you not to talk like that,” Sam said.
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
“I’m also supposed to tell you it’s fresh to say ‘whatever’ to your mother.”
“Whatever,” he said, eyes dancing with glee.
To Nick, Sam said, “Are we going to look back at this as the moment we lost all control of him?”
“I think that might’ve happened when you encouraged him to blow off eighth-grade math,” Nick said.
“That was her finest moment as a mother,” Scotty said, offering her a fist bump.
Sam gave him the bump. “Thank you. I thought so too.”
“Where are we with the dog conversation?”
“About the same place we were this time yesterday,” Sam said.
“That’s not progress. We need some progress.”
“Christmas is coming,” Nick said. “Make a list.”
“Here’s my list: dog. Any questions?”
“Isn’t it your bedtime?” Sam asked.
“Not for another ten minutes, which gives us plenty of time to discuss this dog we’re going to get for Christmas. What kind should we get?”
“If we were to get a dog,” Sam said, “I’d want it to be a rescue.”
“What does that mean?” Scotty asked. “A rescue?”
“That’s what they call dogs who are taken in by shelters.”
“Oh, like foster kids.”
“Not like that at all, because hello, dogs,” Sam said. “Not children.”
“You know what I mean. They’re little people in need of a good home, which means I’m down with adopting a rescue. Can I help to pick him out?”
“If we decide to get a dog, you can help to pick him out,” Nick said.
“I can’t wait.” He took all three of their bowls to the sink, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Then he came to the table and hugged them both. “Thanks again for what you did with that reporter.”
“Anything for you, kid.” Sam echoed the chief’s words to her earlier. “It’s what family does for family.”
“I’m glad you’re my family, even if you’re always talking about that.”
“Not always,” Nick said, grinning.
“Whatever.” He walked out of the room, letting the kitchen door swing closed behind him.
“Whatever I did to deserve that kid, I’m going to be eternally thankful for it,” Nick said.
“Ditto.