“You saw her face last night. She lit up like a Christmas tree when we said we were hanging out together. I think she’s been waiting for this since I first brought you home and warned her not to freak out.”
“You warned her not to freak out? About me?”
“Well, yeah. I couldn’t just waltz in the house with you and not warn her. I am a gentleman, after all.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“What would you call it, Princess?”
I growled and frowned at him. “I hate you and I’m going to make up some stupid nickname for you that you hate. And I’m going to call you by it all the time. Because I’m twelve,” I said with a fake scowl.
“Sorry, punk.”
“But seriously, Tatum, I don’t want to disappoint your mom.” I hated the idea of her being upset at me.
“She’s not going to be disappointed. You’re reading way too much into this,” he insisted.
“By the way, what’s the deal with my car?” Not that I cared, I just figured I’d ask so I could pretend I needed to know.
“Oh.” He turned his face away briefly before looking up at the ceiling and shrugging. “I’m, um, never fixing it.”
I laughed. “That’s just rude, Tatum Alan Montgomery.”
“Is it?” He leaned over me, his mouth quirking up into a devilish grin. I wanted to smack his arm, be playful, or say something witty, but all I could see were his shoulders and the way his arms flexed as he held himself above me. Nothing in my life had ever been sexier than this moment.
“You see something you like?” Tatum winked as my focus returned to his face.
“A lady never tells,” I said coyly.
“And you, Paige Lockwood,” he kissed my nose, “are most certainly one of those.” With a grin on his face, he rolled off of me and got out of bed. “I’m starving.”
I moved to get out of bed and change into my clothes when I froze. “Tatum, seriously. I’m putting the same clothes back on and doing the walk of shame. Into your mom’s house!”
“You’d better bring some of your clothes over here then,” he said as he walked out the door, and my heart melted. I stayed on his bed for a minute, collecting the puddle of myself until I turned solid enough to move again.
Pulling open the porch door, I prayed that Tatum’s mom wasn’t in the kitchen, or anyplace where she could see me. But the smell of breakfast cooking hit me in the face, and I knew I was in trouble. Mrs. Montgomery turned her head at the sound of the door creaking open, and I pinched my lips together and offered her a tight smile.
“Morning, Paige,” she said with arched eyebrows.
Crap. I was so busted.
“Morning. I’ll just, uh,” nerves fluttered through me, “be right back.” I ru
shed into my bedroom and quickly changed into some clean clothes before returning to the kitchen for breakfast.
Sitting down at the table, Tatum couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face as his mom kept looking between us.
“I’d really like to take you both out to dinner tonight if that’s okay,” I said. “You do have a restaurant in town, right?” I searched my memory, trying to recall if I’d seen one, but I was certain they had to have one.
Tatum laughed. “We have one café.”
Mrs. Montgomery smiled. “You don’t have to do that, Paige, but it’s kind of you to offer.”
“You both have done so much for me since I’ve been here. And Mrs. Montgomery, you haven’t stopped cooking or baking since I arrived. I’d love to let someone else cook for you for once. Please?” I put my hands together in prayer and stuck out my bottom lip.
“So you don’t like my cooking? Is that it?” Mrs. Montgomery teased, and as I opened my mouth to argue, she stopped me. “I’m kidding, Paige. That sounds nice. I’d love to go out.”
“Yay!” I said a little too enthusiastically, and Tatum rolled his eyes.