She looked down at the shirt. “No. I thought you put it in my backpack.” Bandit barreled into her, and she stroked his head.
Zev chuckled. “I have a feeling Char has taught Bandit a bit of matchmaking magic. When I was doing laundry, Bandit brought me the clothes he’d stolen. After I washed them, I put yours beside my duffel bag and left the room to get a drink. When I came back, he was lying on my bag and your clothes were gone. I thought Bandit had absconded with them again, but when I went to zip my bag, I found them stuffed inside it. I’m holding your clothes hostage by the way, so you have a reason to make time to see me.”
She smiled and said, “Then we’re even, because that was my plan, too, only I have no intention of giving your shirt back even after we see each other again.”
“You can have everything of mine, as long as I have you.” He leaned in for another kiss and handed her the bouquet. “I know you didn’t use to love getting flowers, but while cereal says I’ve never forgotten anything about you—us—or stopped loving you, red roses say I love you in a universal language, and I want you to know I love you in every way possible.”
“Zevy. They’re gorgeous, but you didn’t have to buy me anything. I know you love me.”
“That’s great, but I’m not leaving any room for miscommunication.”
“I love them. Thank you.” She lifted them to her nose and said, “They smell beautiful. I’ve actually never gotten roses before. I think I like it.”
“Good, because I intend to discover all of your undiscovered likes.”
Her eyes heated. “I look forward to that.” She motioned with her hand, and said, “Come inside.”
“You sure you’re ready for that?” he teased. “Once I’m in the Zev-free zone, there’s no going back.”
“Oh my gosh, get in here.” She grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into the house. A savory scent hung in the air.
“Something smells delicious.” He slid his backpack off his shoulder and set it by the door. Bandit’s nails tapped along the hardwood floors as they followed Carly through the living room, passing a coral love seat and two yellow chairs that formed an inviting nook by the fireplace. In the far-right corner of the living room was a spiral staircase, and just beyond was a sunroom with a small round table set for two. A half wall lined with pretty plants separated the living room from a cozy kitchen.
“Grown-up Carly knows how to cook,” she said as they walked through the sunroom. She opened a cabinet, pulled out a vase, and began filling it with water. “You’ve done so much for me, I wanted to do something special for you. I know your mom’s whiskey crab soup and herb butter lobster tails and your dad’s cheddar biscuits used to be your favorites, so I called your mom and got your parents’ recipes.”
She lifted the top of a pot sitting on the stove, and the delicious, spicy scent of whiskey crab soup billowed out with the steam.
“Wow. That brings back memories,” he said, setting the bakery box on the counter. “You called my mom? Was she surprised to hear from you?”
“Mm-hm.” She set the vase on the counter and hooked her fingers into the belt loops on his jeans, stepping closer. “I thought it might be a little awkward, even after how great your family was during the video chat on the boat. But your mom was just as warm and friendly as she used to be. We ended up talking for a long time. She asked me all sorts of questions about us, even the hard ones, like was I sure I trusted you and did I still love you.”
“Ouch. Way to throw me under the bus, Mom.”
Carly laughed softly. “It wasn’t like that. You know she was always like a second mom to me. I think she wanted me to know that I could still tell her anything. She said it had been hard for her, letting you wander the world for all these years, when what she really wanted to do was send your father and brothers after you and—I’m quoting here—drag your butt back and make you see that you couldn’t run from grief or from what we had.”
“Now, that sounds like my mom.”
“She loves you so much, Zevy. She said true love was rarely