“Croy?”
Turning my attention back to Dallas, I closed the laptop lid and then squeezed in to lie down beside him on the bed, head on the pillow, to stare into his eyes.
“I told your mother that this thing with us was impossible, but that I was going to give it my best shot anyway.”
“You did?”
“I did.”
“And what did she say to that?”
“She might have cried just a little,” I teased, smiling at him. “But what do you think?”
“I feel like you came flying outta nowhere and tackled the idiot I was supposed to be watching to the ground, and when you stood up, my whole life was different.”
“That’s kind of romantic, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It kinda is.”
“So what are we wearing to dinner with your mother?”
He groaned, and I scooted closer and kissed him.
“I don’t wanna stay,” he grumbled when I finally let him go. “I wanna wreck this bed with you. Again.”
“I like that plan. I’m excited to be a part of that plan.”
His laughter made my stomach flutter for a moment, and it was a new and terrifying experience. That fast, I was already thinking that not having Dallas Bauer in my life would be an absolute tragedy. I wanted to keep him, and the man wasn’t even housetrained.
“Wow.”
“Stop,” he groaned, getting out of the car in the large circular driveway and slamming the door a bit more forcefully than was necessary.
“It looks like the front of a hotel,” I told him.
He growled at me.
The house on Ashworth Circle was older, built in the mid-sixties, and it was gorgeous, with a cool mid-century retro vibe. The landscaping was stunning, river rock combined with decorative shrubs and ornamental grasses, as well as palms and many Shoestring Acacias. The front door was enormous, textured glass that looked like rivulets of water in a wood frame, and as I stood there beside Dallas, waiting to go inside, I saw how twitchy he seemed. It made no sense, unless he was nervous about me being there.
“Are you sure it’s all right that I’m here?”
He turned to me, scowling. “The only reason I’m here is because you’re with me. I normally skip this scene.”
Interesting.
Jackie opened the front door, a vision of casual elegance in a gray silk maxi-skirt with a thin white belt at the waist, and a long-sleeved white dress shirt. She’d put her auburn hair up in a messy bun, and her pearl drop earrings were lovely.
“I feel underdressed,” I told her.
“No,” she said, chuckling, reaching for my hand, which I gave her, and drawing me forward into the foyer. “You look wonderful.”
“You understand I’m dealing with a limited wardrobe here,” I explained, passing her the bottle of Chardonnay I’d brought. “Dallas said you didn’t like red.”
“Oh, how thoughtful,” she said, leaning in to kiss my cheek and then rounding on her son as he closed the front door behind him. “And you?”
He gestured at me. “He’s the one with the manners, not me.”
“But I’m the one who raised you.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That’s my point.”
She chuckled and then went in for the hug, which he gave her, squeezing tight and then kissing her cheek.
“Oh,” she said with a sigh, “I like that.”
He rolled his eyes, letting her go so she could lead us into the enormous kitchen that opened up into the living room.
“Your house is gorgeous,” I complimented her.
“I like it,” she replied playfully, slipping the bottle I’d given her into the wine refrigerator under the counter. “The house itself is only forty-five hundred square feet, and we only have four bedrooms, but there’s a lot of space for entertaining. The patio is enormous, and I love the sunroom and the flower garden in the back.”
“I’m sure there’s a pool too.”
“Yes, and a spa, and outside my bedroom, there’s a private little retreat where I have my morning coffee and start my day.”
“It sounds perfect.”
She cupped my face in her hand as an older man came into the kitchen. He was handsome, tall and broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair, a beard and mustache, great laugh lines in the corners of his dark blue eyes, and was dressed casually in black slacks and a black turtleneck sweater. “Oh, Thad, this is Croy. He’s Dallas’s friend.”
Thad, Dallas’s stepfather, offered me his hand. “Good to meet you, Croy. What are you drinking? I’ve got a full bar on the other side of the room.”
“I’d love an Old Fashioned,” I told him.
“Coming right up,” he said, and then turned to Dallas, gently squeezing his shoulder. “And how are you, my boy?”
“Good, thank you,” Dallas said tightly, and I moved to put a hand on the small of his back, just to let him know I was there. His exhale was fast. “I’d love an Old Fashioned as well, since you’re offering.”
Thad looked stunned, and I had no idea why.