It Started at Christmas...
Page 54
“Look, telling her I was dating someone was easier than showing up and there being some single female there eager to meet me and plan our future together. It’s really not as big a deal as you’re making it for you to come to my parents’ at Christmas.”
Maybe not to him, but the thought of meeting his family was a very big deal to her. She didn’t meet families. That implied things that just weren’t true.
“Obviously you haven’t been paying attention,” she pointed out. “I’ll be here on Christmas, working.”
“The shifts are abbreviated on the holidays. What time will you get off?”
“Oh, no. You’re not trapping me that way.”
He gave her an innocent look. “What way?”
“The way that whatever time I say you’re going to say, ‘Oh, that’s perfect. Just come on over when you’re finished.’”
“Hey, McKenzie?”
She frowned at him, knowing what he was about to say.
“The time you get off from the emergency room is perfect. Just come to my parents’ house when you’re finished.”
“Meeting parents implies a commitment you and I don’t have,” she reiterated.
“There’ll be lots of people there. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. People even I’ve never met. It’s a party. You’ll have fun and it’s really not a big deal, except it saves me from my mother trying to set me up with every single nonrelated female she knows.”
* * *
How in the world had he talked her into this? McKenzie asked herself crossly as she pushed the Spencers’ doorbell.
She didn’t do this.
Only, apparently, this year she did.
Even to the point she’d made a dessert to bring with her to Lance’s parents. How corny was that?
She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t do “meet the parents.” She just didn’t.
Panic set in. She turned, determined to escape before anyone knew she was there.
At that moment the front door opened.
“You’re here.”
“Not really,” she countered. “Forget you saw me. I’m out of here.”
Shaking his head, he grinned. “Get in here.”
“I think I made a mistake.”
His brows rose. “McKenzie, you just drove almost an hour to get here and not so you could get here and leave without Christmas dinner.”
“I’ve done crazier things.” Like agree to come to Christmas dinner with Lance’s family in the first place.
“Did you make something?” He gestured to the dish she held.
“A dessert, but—”
“No buts, McKenzie. Get in here.”
She took a deep breath. He was right. She was being ridiculous. She had gotten off work, gone home, showered, grabbed the dessert she’d made the night before and typed his parents’ address into her GPS.