Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(122)

“Yay!” The kids scattered.

Hank called after my sons’ departing backs, “Y’all need baths! Joshua, help your brother.”

“Okay!” came Joshua’s reply, and I could just make out him say to Frankie, “You want to play battleship and sink some boats?”

Hank turned to me. He looked exhausted but happy. I imagined I looked just the same.

I winked at him. “You did good today, Mr. Weller.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mitchell.” His eyes twinkled at me. I knew if we’d been alone, he’d pull me in for a breath-stealing kiss. But we weren’t alone, so he didn’t. “Sorry I was late.”

“No. Don’t worry about it. Everything worked out perfectly.” I woke up my phone and navigated to the food ordering app. “I think your petting zoo made every kid in Green Valley fall head over heels for you. What do you like on your pizza?”

He didn’t respond.

I glanced at Hank just to find him looking at me with the most curious expression—dazed, caught, like I’d asked him to tell me his political affiliation rather than what he wanted on his pizza.

“Hank?”

“Pizza?” he croaked. “You want to share a pizza? With me?”

My spine straightened at the mystery of his shift in demeanor. “Yes. Pizza.”

He cleared his throat. “I like everything. I’ll—uh—share whatever y’all want.” His voice was still a little scratchy.

“Are you okay?” I inspected him. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”

“No, no. I’m not sick.” He cleared his throat again and glanced around, presumably searching for any nearby kids. He then stepped close and kissed my temple before leaning back. “It’s just . . . I haven’t had pizza in a long time.”

“Do you not like pizza?” I navigated back to the search screen. “We could have burgers instead. Or—”

“Pizza,” he said firmly, something in his tone drawing my attention. Hank wore an odd smile, and his eyes were a bit glassy. “I can’t think of anything I’d love more than to share a pizza with all of you.”

I folded my arms over my abruptly fluttering heart. Why it had chosen this moment to flutter, I had no idea.

Trying to lighten the inexplicably serious mood, I teased, “Really? Nothing you’d love more? You can’t think of a single thing you want more than pizza?”

It didn’t work. His gaze grew more intent, his chest rising and falling with bracing breaths.

I held very still. Something was happening, or about to happen, or had happened. I felt it, and so I braced myself.

“Charlotte,” he said, staring at me.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

I blinked, my lips parting as the words rushed through me. But they didn’t rock my world, though. I’d figured as much already.

I mean, we hadn’t discussed our feelings much since that morning I’d been sick and he’d taken care of me, both of us seemingly taking for granted that we were in this for the long haul. He loved me, and I loved him, and we both loved the kids, and we were figuring things out.

At least that’s what I’d assumed.

“Charlotte.” He said my name in that way of his, making it sound like a pained plea. “Please. Say something.”

“Hank, I—” I shook my head, wondering what the big deal was. “If I’d known ordering pizza would make you love me, I would’ve ordered it a month ago.”

A laugh erupted out of him, but his eyes narrowed. He reached for me. “You are hilarious.”

“And you love that about me,” I said, grinning, wanting to kiss his face off.

“I do,” he said, and that’s when I detected the reluctant vulnerability in him, the steadying shade to his eyes.

My heart fluttered again, twisting for this absolutely stunning soul, who I loved so much, and who . . . Wait a darn minute.

I gasped. “You think you love me and I don’t love you!”

His mouth flattened. “Well, I’m the only one who’s said it, Charlotte. What am I supposed to think?”

“I’m—I’m insulted!” I pushed out of his hold, dropped my voice to a harsh whisper, and jutted out my chin. “How dare you think I don’t love you. I love you, you stubborn, lovely man. I’ve loved you this whole time. How could I not? The way you obviously love my children, the way you’re always here—right here—for me when I need you, your sexy-wizardry smirks, your intelligence, your heart, your patience, the orgasms—THE ORGASMS! Hank, you make it unbearable for me to do anything else but love you. I have no choice!”

By the time I’d finished my whispered rant, a massive grin had absorbed his whole face. Hank’s eyes shone brightly and caressed my face lovingly.

“I love you,” he said again, this time without any trace of his earlier reservations. “And for the record, you also make it unbearable for me to do anything else but love you.”

“Good.” I nodded firmly. “Because I love you.”

He reached for me again, pulling me close, his gaze on my lips. “And I love you.”

I angled my chin, ready to receive his kiss, when a loud, “Mooooooooooom!” detonated from someplace behind Hank.