Shake It Up (Man of the Month 8)

He met her eyes, his hard and determined. "We will be."

"I hate that this--"

"No." His word was firm, and the hand holding hers even more so. "No more thinking like that." He drew a breath. "Come on. We're going to go stay somewhere else."

"Where?"

"Where else does a thirty-six year old man go when he has to vacate his house?" He grinned. "That's right, baby. I'm taking you home to meet the parents."

Chapter Eleven

"Your parents are amazing," Taylor said, after she'd been thoroughly welcomed by Gayle and Harvey Bartlett.

She'd grilled Landon on the way over, making sure there was no way that the trouble that seemed to be following her like Pigpen's dust wouldn't soil their life. He'd assured her that their home was isolated and gated, with excellent security. Moreover, because they'd never formally adopted him, Beau would have to dig deep to find the connection between Landon and the Bartletts.

With that reassurance, she'd let herself relax. And the fact that they'd decided to introduce her as Landon's girlfriend and not as a woman in jeopardy meant that there was no talk about Beau or all the shit he'd pulled. Which had gone a long way to making the evening with the Bartletts relaxed and drama free.

Now, Harvey was mixing drinks at a gorgeous oak bar that filled their first floor game room while Gayle slipped off to the kitchen to put together "just a few things to snack on."

"That means another dinner," Landon said, exchanging a knowing look with his father.

"My Gayle isn't happy unless everyone around her is well-fed."

"That's okay by me," Taylor admitted. She went through phases where she tried to avoid carbs, but mostly she just liked to eat. "Especially after sampling her talent at dinner. That was the best lasagna I've ever had."

"It's her go-to meal for when we have unexpected guests." He winked. "And unexpected doesn't mean unwelcome."

"Thanks again for letting us crash here," Landon said, then launc

hed into their planned story. "I wasn't thinking when I told Taylor she could stay at my place tonight while hers is being fumigated. But since I'd just varnished the floors, that wasn't going to work."

"Are you kidding? You're always welcome. Besides, it might have been weeks before you dropped by to introduce your young lady to us." He flashed a wide smile at Taylor. "And that would have been a shame."

He crossed to her then with a highball glass. "It's an Old Fashioned. My favorite. Too sweet for some, but you tell me if you want something else."

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll love it." She'd had the whiskey-based drink before, and it was one of her favorites. Now, she took a sip with pleasure as she watched Harvey pass Landon his drink.

The two men couldn't be more dissimilar. They were both tall, but Harvey was as pale as Landon was dark. And whereas Landon's body was a solid block of muscle, Harvey seemed to be genetically related to the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. His skinny limbs weren't the only similarity either. He had unruly hay-colored hair that stuck out in all directions. Not to mention the kind of personality that meant you couldn't help but like the man.

God knew Taylor had liked him instantly.

And if Harvey and Landon were different, Harvey and his wife were definitely proof that opposites attract.

A beautiful black woman in her early sixties, Gayle Bartlett had the kind of curves that rivaled Marilyn Monroe. She moved with such grace she almost seemed to float. And she had the same kind eyes as Landon, though there wasn't the slightest genetic connection between them.

What she and her husband shared, however, was an obvious love for their son along with warm and welcoming personalities.

Between snacks and conversation, the evening passed easily, and by the time the Bartletts said goodnight and headed off to the master suite, Taylor felt completely at home.

"Do you think they'd adopt me?" she asked.

"Then you'd sort of be my sister," Landon said, pulling her into his lap. "I don't think I like that idea." He kissed her then, in what was definitely not a sisterly fashion.

"Mmm. Good point." She leaned against him and sighed. "Thank you for bringing me here. Today wasn't the best. You made it better."

"Come on," he said, standing up with her still curled in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him carry her to his bedroom, still decorated as it had been when he was a teen.

"Martial arts. Baseball. Marvel comics," she said, glancing at his walls.