Tuck let out a wolf whistle and covered Justin’s eyes. “At least let the children leave before you start in on that.”

Justin grabbed at Tuck’s arms. “I told them to stop with the mushy stuff.”

“It never works,” Noah grumbled as he climbed out of the SUV. “My mom and dad are the worst.” Drew followed, hitting the ground with an oomph.

“Did you hear that, Wilder? We’re the worst,” Tuck said with a devilish grin.

Jensen rolled her eyes. “He’s hopeless.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

She smacked his shoulder. “Tuck!”

Mason barked out a laugh. “Well, we’ll be happy to take Noah and Drew for a sleepover another time if you guys want a date night.”

Tuck gave Mason a fist bump. “I knew I liked you.”

Jensen pulled me in for a quick hug. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks. I feel like I can finally breathe.”

“I’ll bet. I don’t want you to worry about them tonight. We’ve planned for every emergency under the sun and where we’re going has cell phone service. I’ll text you.”

The tension between my shoulder blades released a fraction. “Thanks. I’m new at this whole thing. I don’t want to screw up.”

Jensen chuckled. “Oh, you will. There’s no way to avoid it. But you’ll fix whatever it is you messed up, and everyone will be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

Tuck let out another of those whistles. “All right, team, fall in. Let’s get our camping on.”

Justin and Lyla gave me and Mason quick hugs and then piled into the large SUV after Drew and Noah. Tuck gave us a salute, and Jensen waved her phone in the air. “Call anytime.”

We watched them disappear down the lane, Mason’s arm going around my shoulders again. I sniffed. “Why do I feel like I need to cry?”

He choked on a laugh. “Seriously?”

I gave him a light elbow to the ribs. “Not nice. It’s emotional. Their first camping trip.”

“We’ll have to go on our own trip.”

“I’ve never been camping.”

Mason tugged me in closer. “Really?”

“Nope. But I could get behind some starry skies and s’mores over a fire. Just as long as you bring me one of those air mattress things.”

“Noted.” He checked his watch. “I have to get going, I have a meeting at nine.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight forty-five.”

“Shoot. I’m supposed to meet Kennedy at the bakery at nine for a breakfast meeting.”

Mason gave me a little tap on the ass. “Better get going.”

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” I warned, heading for the house.

“Promises, promises.”