Take Me Home Tonight by Erika Kelly

And her husband? Terrence had been there every step of the way, his love for his wife clear in the way he looked at her. And he’d made it fun—cracking them all up as he showed Mimi how to debeard mussels.
    â€œI’m starving.” Lee collapsed into a beach chair. “Haven’t eaten all day.”
    Mimi shot her a look over her shoulder. “Grab something from the cooler.”
    â€œShe never eats,” Jo said.
    â€œUh, you should talk,” Lee said right back.
    Jo’s eyes rounded, clearly ready to get into it with her daughter, but Terrence broke the tension when he burst out laughing. “She got you there.”
    â€œI don’t even understand not eating,” Mimi said. “I’m Italian, and I eat like every meal is Thanksgiving.”
    â€œBelieve me,” Lee said. “I eat.”
    â€œI’ll tell you why she doesn’t eat,” Terrence said. “She’s waiting for someone to make her something.”
    â€œAre you serious?” Mimi asked.
    Lee kicked up a little sand with her toes. “What? So I don’t cook.”
    â€œSpoiled, more like.” Terrence grinned at his wife. “Her mom made her breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day of her life.”
    â€œHm, maybe
you
should be the one taking the cooking lessons,” Mimi said.
    â€œForget it.” Lee tipped her head back, opening her mouth wide.
    â€œWhat the hell’re you doing?” Jo said.
    â€œI’m a baby bird, waiting for you to feed me.”
    Jo leaned over, stuck a hand in the basket, and pulled out a baguette. She tore off the end and tossed it to her daughter. “There. You’re fed.”
    â€œThanks, Ma.” Lee bit into the bread. “Yum. What else you got?”
    â€œSee for yourself.” Jo slid lower in the chair and closed her eyes.
    Reaching into a straw basket, Lee hauled out plastic containers of hummus and sliced vegetables.
    â€œLet’s get the food on here now,” Terrence said.
    Jo pulled a clear plastic bag of Quahog clams out of a cooler. Her long, shaggy hair spilled forward, and she tried to whip it back with a toss of her head. While she took out a bag of mussels, Terrence made his way around the pit to stand behind her, gathering her hair into a ponytail. Jo flinched at his touch, and Terrence froze, hurt momentarily gripping his features.
    Mimi looked away, hating to see the man’s touch rebuked. But then Lee pulled an elastic off her wrist and tossed it to her dad. He caught it in his huge palm and tied back his wife’s hair. Smoothing a hand down the ponytail, Jo thanked him, then got up and brought the bags to the pit.
    After spreading out the cheesecloth bundles of potatoes, onions, and carrots, they added another layer of seaweed.Then, the four of them spread out the shellfish, topping it with more kelp. Finished, they covered the pit with a tarp.
    â€œShame we don’t have corn on the cob,” Terrence said.
    â€œWrong season.” Jo sat back in her chair. “Besides, we’re just showing her how to do it.”
    â€œLooks good,” Terrence said in his grumbly voice.
    â€œHey.” Gus came down the stairs, carrying his laptop. “So, listen, I think I got the Zaranov Vodka account today.” His bare feet kicked out sand as he headed toward them.
    â€œGood.” Terrence’s big body landed in a beach chair.
    â€œOh, yeah, it’s awesome.” Gus sounded frustrated. “My first contract in months.” He wore his dark hair shorter than Calix’s but long enough that a lock fell across his eyes. No question he was as handsome as his older brother with those dark eyes and caramel-colored skin, but he didn’t have the same intensity. He didn’t smolder.
    â€œGood thing we’re not looking for the income.” Terrence gave his son a hard look, and man, if he’d looked at her like that, she’d have gotten the message to shut