“Then let me say it again. You should do what you want to do. Whatever it is you want to do. Because you deserve to have whatever makes you happy.”

Something inside her heart clenched. She didn’t know what it was, and sitting here with a cooking instructor monitoring them wasn’t the place to dissect it.

Or maybe she did know what it was, and this either wasn’t the time or place, or she wasn’t ready to face it yet. So she tucked it back into her heart and brushed her lips across Tucker’s.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now how about that biscotti?”

TUCKER NEVER THOUGHT HE’D HAVE HIS TRUCK PILED up with fancy pots and pans and gadgets to make food. But as he carted all the boxes into the house, he had to admit, he was pretty excited.

Now he just had to actually use it all. Which he would, right away, since his brothers Barrett and Flynn were coming over. He and Aubry had decided they should cook together, and when he told her his brothers were flying in for a visit, she suggested they cook for them.

His brothers definitely liked to eat, just like he did. They’d make good guinea pigs for him and Aubry.

Since their cooking class two weeks ago, he and Aubry had bought a few cookbooks and tried out some recipes. Nothing too fancy, but they’d made some dishes. Successful ones, too. But his supply of cookware and accessories was limited, and they always seemed to end up at his place, so he had decided to do a little shopping and stock up.

He might actually have a knack for this cooking thing. If nothing else, he’d eat a lot less take-out food. And that wasn’t a bad thing.

He had everything washed, dried and put away when the doorbell rang. It was Aubry, holding two bags of groceries.

“There’s more in the car,” she said. “If you’d like to go get those, I’ll start putting these away.”

“Okay.” He went out and grabbed the rest of the bags, shut the trunk of her car and came back inside.

“I’m making guesses as to where you want this stuff,” she said as he laid the bags on the island.

“Wherever you want to put things is fine.”

They unloaded all the bags, then Aubry leaned against the island.

“Okay. I got amazing salmon steaks. I’m already hungry just thinking about it.”

“Me, too.”

“When do your brothers get in?”

He grabbed his phone and checked the time. “They should be here soon.”

“I also bought beer. Like, lots of beer. You said the guys like beer.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I noticed the beer. I already had some, but they drink like fish. I think we’ll have plenty.”

“I got wine, too, which is chilling in the fridge. I should probably start the marinade for the salmon.”

She started toward the fridge, but he grabbed her hand. “There’s no hurry on that, Aubry. You should open the wine, pour yourself a glass and relax.”

She looked at him like he’d just sprouted two heads. “Relax? We’re cooking for your brothers tonight. How am I supposed to relax? I’m still a novice at this cooking thing, Tucker.”

“And my brothers eat hot dogs from the microwave. They’re hardly culinary connoisseurs. So . . . chill, okay?”

She took a deep breath, then let it out. “Clearly, I’m slightly nervous about this. You and I playing in the kitchen together is one thing. Cooking for someone else is different.”

He pulled her toward him, brushing his fingers against her hand. “They’re not someone else. They’re my brothers. You could fix them a bowl of cereal and they’d be happy. Just relax.”

“Fine. I’m opening the wine.”

He smiled, shook his head and grabbed a beer as she went for the wine. Just then, the doorbell rang.

“Get your wine. I’ll get the door.”

He opened the door to his brothers Barrett and Flynn.

“Hey, asshole,” Barrett said, but then hugged him as he stepped inside.

“Hey yourself, dickhead.”

“I don’t smell anything, other than you,” Flynn said, hugging him. “Is dinner ready yet?”

He hugged Flynn. “We haven’t started yet. Waiting for you to pitch in.”

They laid their bags inside the front door.

“I can cook a masterpiece of a meal for you with hot dogs and a cucumber,” Flynn said. “Let me at your kitchen.”

Barrett snorted. “I’d rather go for fast food than eat something you’ve cooked, Flynn.”

“You’ve obviously never eaten my cooking,” Flynn said, he and Barrett following Tucker into the kitchen. “I’m good at this shit.”