“True, meatloaf it is then,” he agrees, and I lean into his side as we continue down the aisle. “I’m having Mom pick up the boys the rest of this week.”

His statement catches me off guard and I stop in my tracks. “Why?” I ask. I’ve gotten used to having him and Max show up at my apartment until it’s time to pick up Mitchell, and then having dinner with him and the boys every night.

“Sorry, baby. I have a couple big projects at the shop I’m working on, and a few tattoo clients have been asking me to sketch some stuff up for them. I’ve put them off as long as I can, so after tonight, I probably won’t be home until after six.”

Work. How could I forget he works two jobs to take care of his boys? I can’t be upset about that. “I can pick up the boys if you want,” I say without thinking then wonder if that is too much. Yes, we have conversations like this thing between us is settled, but the truth is it’s very new. And I don’t even know if the boys would want me picking them up. “I mean, if your mom is busy, I don’t mind picking them up. I’m sure they want to spend time with her.”

“I’ll talk to the boys.”

“Talk to us about what?” Mitchell asks, appearing from behind us holding a box of cereal.

“I gotta do some overtime this week. I was just telling December that I won’t be home until after six, and she said she could pick you two up from school if Grandma is busy,” Gareth replies as Mitchell places the box he’s holding in the cart.

“Can you pick me up even if Grandma isn’t busy?” Max asks startling me, and I meet his gaze. “Grandma’s always dragging me around to run errands. I’d rather just go home after school and hang with you.”

“I’d rather hang with you too,” Mitchell agrees, and I want to jump up and down but I control the urge.

“You sure you’re cool with picking them both up and staying with them?” Gareth asks.

“I get off work at 3:30, so I have plenty of time to make it over to Max’s school before he gets out, and we can either wait for Mitchell or go home until—” I shake my head. “I mean, go back to your place until he’s ready to get off. Plus, I like spending time with the boys,” I explain, looking between the two of them.

“Awesome,” Max says, making me smile.

“Just don’t act like you’re so excited when your grandma finds out about this change of plans. She’s going to be disappointed that she isn’t getting to spend time with you two,” Gareth tells them, and I start to feel guilty.

After breakfast with Gareth’s mom last week, I learned quickly that her boys are her boys, and although she was very nice to me, I could still tell she considered me an intruder.

“Grandma will be cool. We’ll just go to her place on the weekends. Plus, that will give you and December time alone,” Mitchell says, and I feel warmth spread up my neck to my cheeks.

“Why would they need time alone? They’re alone all night after we go to bed,” Max tells him, and then he looks at me. “Why don’t you ever stay to have breakfast with us in the morning?”

“Wh-what?” I sputter.

“You always leave super early, like… it’s still totally dark out.”

Oh my God. How long have they known I’ve been sleeping there?

“I’m just saying you could have breakfast with us, since you’re sleeping over.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to know she’s been staying over,” Mitchell says dryly, and Max frowns at him.

“Are you two cool with her staying the night?” Gareth asks before Max can question his brother, and I look around, thinking the middle of the grocery store isn’t exactly the best place to be having this conversation. Really, I don’t know if I should be around for this conversation.

“It’s cool with me.” Mitchell shrugs like it’s all the same to him.

“Totally,” Max agrees, mimicking his brother’s shrug, and then he looks at me. “Can Melbourne stay in my room with me?”

“I…. Umm, sure,” I reply, and he grins.

“Well, now that we’ve settled all that, let’s finish up here so we can get home. Mitchell, you go grab milk, eggs, and a couple of packs of bacon, and Max, you run down and grab a case of Coke while me and December get the stuff for dinner.”

“On it.” Max takes off, but Mitchell lingers behind like he has something to say. Once his brother is out of earshot, he turns to face his dad and me, and I reach out for Gareth’s hand and hold my breath, unsure what to expect or how much more I can take.

“I know you have to work, but do you think we can keep having dinner together every night as a family, even if it’s late?”

“Sure bud,” Gareth answers gruffly, and I tighten my hand around his when his fingers squeeze mine.

“Cool.” He says softly before he tucks his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be back.” He turns and walks away and I watch him go then look up at Gareth.

“So—” I clear my throat. “—is it me, or did a lot just happen?”

“A lot just happened.”

I bite the inside of my cheek then shake my head, “I wonder how long they’ve known I’ve been sleeping over.”

“No idea. Also know it really doesn’t matter. I’m just happy they’re cool with you stayin’ the night.”

I drag in a deep breath. “I guess you’re right.”

“They both adore you.”

“I love them,” I admit.

“Only them?” he asks quietly as his eyes search mine.

I look around. “I’m not going to tell you that I love you the first time in the middle of the grocery store.”

“Why not? I don’t give a fuck where you tell me, just as long as you mean it when you say it. Besides I already know you love me,” he says smugly, letting my hand go to place his arm around my shoulders.

“What do you mean you know?”

“It’s written on your face every time you look at me,” he says, and I wonder if that’s true. Actually, I’m sure it is. I probably look like one of those emojis with the big heart eyes.

“Whatever. Let’s just focus on getting the stuff for dinner,” I mutter.

He brushes his lips across mine then leans back, grinning. “You’re even cute when you’re annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.”

“You are,” he returns, and I roll my eyes. “Are you happy though?”

At his quietly asked question, I rest my hand against his stomach, and tell him the truth. “I’m happier than I ever have been.”

“Then I’m doing my job,” he says, still talking gently. I don’t know how we got to this point, especially after the way things between us started out, but I’m glad we’re here now.

“You know, you’re very mushy for a guy who looks so gruff,” I say, and he laughs. “What? It’s true.”

“Babe, I’m not mushy.”

“You kinda are.”

“I’m not,” he denies.

“You really are,” I say just to tease, and he shakes his head then ignores me as I pick on him through the rest of the store.