I gave a halfhearted huff. “You know what I mean.”
“Yup, and their room is clear on the other side of the main floor. Trust me, I can sneak down the hall to you tonight, no problem.”
I frowned, not liking the thought that popped into my head. “Done it before?”
“Actually, no. You’re the first friend of that nature I’ve brought along.”
“Oh.” My face heated, and I dropped my gaze to the fluffy carpeting.
Ezra wasn’t having any of that, though, and tipped my chin back up to look at him. “That makes you special.”
I made a pleased noise right as he captured my mouth for a sweet, long kiss that had my toes digging into the rug. We stumbled toward the big bed, but as soon as Ezra pushed me down, a bell chimed.
“Darn it. Food’s ready.”
“They have an actual dinner bell?” I had to laugh as we untangled ourselves.
“Well, brunch bell.” He gave me one last fast kiss on the cheek as he offered me a hand up. “And you better believe I’m finishing that thought with you later.”
I shivered. “I shouldn’t encourage you…”
“Oh, please. Encourage me.” He batted his eyes at me before striding back to the door.
Groaning, I faked defeat, slumping my shoulders. “Fine. Guess I’ll leave a light on.”
“I can’t wait.”
And God help me, neither could I.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ezra
Watching Duncan with my parents was weird. I’d expected him to speak fluent golf scores and current news with my dad, but what kept surprising me was how good he was with Mom.
“You made this?” Duncan marveled over Mom’s new Belgian waffle maker as she stacked waffles on a white platter. Meanwhile, I stole a strip of bacon and restrained myself from touching him. I was trying to respect his need to keep us on the down-low, but it was difficult when I was so proud of what an awesome secret boyfriend he was, putting Mom at ease while helping to set the table for brunch.
“Yes, I do all the cooking, especially when our Ezra visits.” Mom gave me a fond smile. Her voice was even softer than usual, but the smile meant she was starting to warm up.
“Ezra keeps wanting to hire us someone full-time, but Betsy likes cooking too much for that,” my dad added. Getting them both to accept the gift of this house had been hard enough. I’d given up the battle to get them to agree to more than an occasional housekeeping service that handled the deep cleaning and the tasks that were getting more challenging as they got older, like laundry.
“Cooking relaxes me.” Mom gave a tiny shrug. Slowly but surely, she was thawing, and seeing her comfortable with Duncan made me grin.
“Well, you’re clearly good at it.” Duncan returned her smile before swooping in to grab the waffle platter when she wobbled. “Here, let me.”
“Sorry. I’m not usually so…” She twisted a dishcloth in her hands. She’d dealt with anxiety her whole life, but her struggles had definitely increased in the past few years. I’d heard from Dad that she had new medication and a new counselor, but it still always sucked to see her floundering.
“It’s okay, Mom.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to be nervous. You know my friends always love your food.”
“They do,” my dad agreed. “And I told you Ezra would love the waffles from the new waffle iron.”
“They smell divine.” I steered her to the table, where we all found seats and started dishing up the food.
“I’m sorry we missed the show last night.” Mom sounded like she was still working through some anxiety, so I reached across the table to squeeze her hand.
“Crowds are hard for both of you. I understand, promise.” They’d been at plenty of my shows over the years, especially when I was younger and needed them there more. As an adult, I could see how much attending my stuff had cost her, but she’d never complained. And neither had my dad, even as his hearing had dipped in recent years. Telling them both to stay home the night before had been a no-brainer.
“Play something new for me later?” Her voice was soft, but her shy smile peeked back out.
“Absolutely. I’ve got a couple of new things I’m fooling around with.”
“And I’d tell you to keep your shirt on in your next video, but that would likely be futile,” Dad joked, adjusting his new hearing aid. It seemed to be helping him match Mom’s quieter volume, but it was another sign that they were getting older faster than I liked.
“The Royals like my shirt on the floor.” I shrugged, enjoying this old argument.
“He’s fully clothed in the ‘Dangerous Love’ video,” Duncan said absently as he helped himself to more bacon.
My dad blinked. “Your bodyguard is a fan of We Wear Crowns?”
“Apparently,” I laughed. I loved that Duncan had my various videos memorized way more than I should. And I also liked watching him eat my mom’s cooking. He was always making noises about watching what he ate, but then he’d allow himself something decadent like waffles with strawberry sauce, and simple pleasure would transform his rugged face. Made me want to bring him back for the holidays, if only to watch him eat my mom’s famous cookies. “And Duncan’s also a friend.”