Trust Me (One Night with Sole Regret 11)

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anderson.”

Mom’s hand fluttered near her neck, and she pressed it hard against her chest. “You too.”

“I brought you some flowers. I hope you like lilies and roses.”

Gabe handed over the bouquet. Her mom couldn’t take her eyes off him. Not even when she accepted his gift. Melanie was pretty sure her mother had gone into shock. While Melanie grabbed a vase from a nearby cabinet and filled it with water, Gabe attempted small talk.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Anderson. Uh, and a great dog.”

“Lucy?” Mom asked, glancing down at the gray-mustached dog at Gabe’s feet who was staring up at him adoringly. “Lucy hates strangers.”

“Well, she obviously loves Gabe,” Melanie said, taking the flowers out of her mom’s hands and sticking them in the vase. “He has a couple of Labradors.”

“Is that right?” Mom said, finally allowing her eyes a swift blink.

“Lady and Beau,” Gabe said.

“Could you carry this out to the deck?” Melanie asked, handing a bowl of potato salad to Gabe. He took it and turned, looking for the way out to the deck. Visible through the sliding doors, a big plume of smoke billowed from the grill as Dad manned the fire with his back to them. Gabe headed in that direction, Lucy on his heels, and Melanie reached for the bowl of coleslaw. Mom lifted a pitcher of lemonade and grabbed Melanie’s arm.

“You didn’t warn me that he was gorgeous,” Mom said, leaning close to whisper in Melanie’s ear. “I made a fool of myself.”

Melanie blinked at her. That was why she’d been staring at Gabe like that, because she thought he was good looking? Melanie laughed. “Hey, Mom,” she whispered so Gabe didn’t overhear, “my new boyfriend is very easy on the eyes. Don’t step on your tongue.”

“Mel!” she admonished, but then she laughed. “Actually, that is a possibility.”

Gabe slid the door open and waited for both women—and the dog—to exit before he followed them out.

“Thank you for the flowers,” Mom said to Gabe as she passed him. “They’re lovely. And please, call me Linda.”

“You’re very welcome, Linda,” he said, pulling the glass door closed behind them.

Melanie couldn’t stop herself from touching his arm as she stood beside him.

“You look just like your mom,” Gabe said.

“Everyone says that,” she said, “but I have my dad’s eyes.” She set her bowl on the rectangular table, and Gabe followed her lead with his bowl.

“Daddy?” she said, wondering why he hadn’t turned around. He had to know they’d come outside. Lucy was standing on her back legs right beside him, begging for a rib.

“Just about ready,” he said, closing the lid on his smoky charcoal grill.

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then turned. She watched Dad search Gabe’s face, the sides of his head that the hat didn’t conceal, and the little hint of a tattoo at his collar, and then narrow his eyes at the tattoos peeking out at each wrist.

“I assume you’re wearing long sleeves in late June to hide something,” Dad said, his hazel eyes boring into Gabe’s emerald green ones.

“Out of respect, actually,” Gabe said, not breaking eye contact.

“Mark,” Mom said, moving next to him and kissing her perturbed-looking husband on the cheek. “You promised.”

“I promised I wouldn’t castrate him on sight.”

“Daddy!” Melanie said, laying a hand on Gabe’s back to let him know his junk was safe. If necessary, she’d defend his nether parts with her life.

“I didn’t promise to like him,” Dad added.

“You haven’t even given him a chance,” Melanie said.

“If Melanie were my daughter, I wouldn’t have let me in the front door,” Gabe said with a disarming smile.

Dad seemed to like his answer. He actually laughed and offered his hand for a measuring handshake. He seemed to like the handshake as well, because it was accompanied by a hard clap on Gabe’s opposite arm.

“I hope you like ribs,” Dad said, turning back to the grill and opening the lid. A fragrant plume of smoke puffed toward the cloudless sky, and tongs in hand, Dad removed the ribs from the grill and placed them on a huge platter.

“If they taste half as good as they smell, I’m in for a treat,” Gabe said.

“They’re always delicious,” Melanie said, sidling up to her father to kiss his cheek. “How was your week?”

“Just fine,” Dad said. “We missed you Wednesday night.”

She usually had dinner with them at least once a week, but had been dealing with Nikki’s admission into the hospital most of the day on Wednesday. She hadn’t told her parents why she’d turned down a home-cooked meal, just that she was busy.

“Haven’t seen much of you for the past couple of weeks, to be honest. Does this fella have something to do with that?” Dad nodded toward Gabe, who was helping her mom fill glasses of lemonade.

“He might,” she said. “He’s important to me, Daddy, or I wouldn’t have brought him to meet you.”

“Not sure how you got him to agree to that.”

“It was his idea.”

“That so?” Dad assessed Gabe even more closely as he added the platter of BBQ-sauce-encrusted ribs to the center of the table.

“Family is important to me, sir,” Gabe said.

There was no doubting his sincerity.

Dad’s eyes narrowed marginally. “That so?”

“I’ve met his parents already,” Melanie said. “You’d like them. They’re both doctors. His sisters are also doctors. I haven’t actually met them yet, but I’m sure they’re as awesome as the rest of his family. And he’s great with dogs. You know what they say about men who are good with dogs. They make great fathers. Not that I’m pregnant or anything. I just wanted to assure you that family really is important to him—he wasn’t just saying that to impress you—and . . . I’ll shut up now.” She didn’t know why she was babbling. Probably because she so wanted her parents to accept the man she loved. She didn’t want to have to give up her close bond with her family to be with Gabe, but she would. At least Mom seemed to like him. Based on her appreciative stare, perhaps a little too much.

“So,” Dad said, taking a seat in his usual spot at the head of the table. The rest of them found chairs as well, with Gabe across from him, and his women at either side. “Family of doctors, huh? What do you do for a living?”

“I’m not sure at the moment.”

“He plays drums for a famous rock band.” Melanie squeezed his hand under the table.

“Of course he does,” Dad said with a frown.

“The band’s on rocky ground right now,” Gabe said in a tone far calmer than he usually used when talking about Sole Regret’s troubles. “I’m currently trying to decide my next move. Start a business. Go back to school. Try to get my band straightened out.” He shrugged and scooped a pile of potato salad onto his plate.

“I dated a musician right after high school,” Mom said, her chin in her hand as she gazed at Gabe.

“You see how well that turned out,” Dad said, sawing between ribs with a huge chef knife. Gabe eyed the sharp instrument warily.

“I never knew that,” Melanie said. “I thought you and Dad were high school sweethearts.”

“We were,” Mom said, “but we broke up for a few months before we came to our senses and decided it was meant to be.”

Dad reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m glad you came to your senses.”

“Me too, but those three months with Darryl sure were fun.”

Melanie blinked at her mother. How come Mom had never told her that she’d dated some musician named Darryl?

“He played guitar,” Mom elaborated. “In the backup band for a country singer. I think he still does, but I’m not sure. We lost touch long ago.”

“He wasn’t right for you, Linda,” Dad said, and Melanie recognized bitterness in the ti

ght press of his lips.

“No, he wasn’t.” Mom leaned closer to Gabe to whisper, “But he was a lot of fun.”

As Mom leaned away, her eyes focused on the side of Gabe’s head where a hint of dragon claw was visible beneath the brim of his hat.

“Do you have something on your head?” she asked.

Gabe went entirely still, a forkful of coleslaw halfway to his mouth. “Uh, just a little ink.”