Once we’d both finished and polished off the potato wedges, I steeled my spine and looked up at him. I was pretty sure I knew the answer to my question, but I wanted to hear him say it anyway.
“True or false. You came out here with an apology meal as a ploy to check and make sure I was still alive.”
His eyes were pinned to my hand as I brought it to my mouth and licked the salt off the pads of my fingers. He twisted away from me, exhaling and shoving his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.
“True.”
I could get used to this. It was still early evening, and I’d had time to shower, dry my hair, find something decent to wear, put a dash of makeup on, and prepare appetizers to go along with the simmering chili.
I’d felt sheepish when I’d called out at the restaurant, but I couldn’t claim not to be loving every second of my free Saturday night. I felt like a real human being for once, and it felt good.
“Will you grab my pop out of the fridge and toss it to me?”
I looked up from the stove, “No, but I can grab your soda if you’d like.” I smirked as Layla raised her arm and flipped me off behind her head. Pop, soda, purse, pocketbook. I’d been on the east coast long enough that I was used to the differences in terms here versus the Midwest, but it drove Layla nuts. I made it a habit to annoy the hell out of her with them any chance I could.
She and her boyfriend, Rick, were currently cuddled up on the couch, watching some sci-fi movie he brought while I finished up dinner. I switched off the stovetop burner and pulled open the fridge to grab her drink. A pair of giant ass eyes stared back at me from the center shelf, and I cursed.
“Seriously, Layla? The fridge?” Witch-like laughter met my ears, and I glared over the bar, launching the toy at her.
A few years ago, she and I had each started a collection of these creepy, bug-eyed stuffed animals. We’d randomly found one at a gas station once and had both continued buying them. I couldn’t remember who’d started it, but not long after she moved in, we’d made it a game to hide them around the house, scaring the shit out of each other with them. Lately, she’d been one-upping me.
I shook my head, glancing toward my front door for the hundredth time. I don’t know why I was so nervous about meeting Garrett’s family again, but I was. And honestly, I was more than a little excited to have people over. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hung out with a group of people who weren’t family members—or over the age of eight.
Dressed in a pair of distressed jeans that fit me like a second skin, and a loose, off-the-shoulder sweater, I didn’t feel like an overworked mom. I felt like me. And I’d really missed me.
Two hard thumps against the door snagged my attention in a way that should have embarrassed me. I shot out of the kitchen, tossing the can on Layla’s lap, and smoothing down my wayward curls in a futile attempt to make them behave. “Do I look okay?”
Layla squinted her eyes at me over Rick’s shoulder, “And just who are you impressing tonight, and why don’t I know about it?”
“Garrett’s sister-in-law, Sarah. She’s married, but my hope is to woo her and replace your nagging ass.”
She pursed her lips, dipping her head in a silent, ‘fair enough,’ manner, before curling back up into Rick. A nasty emotion swelled up inside my chest at the sight of them practically cuddle fucking on my couch, but I swallowed it down, forcing it to the pit of my stomach like a bad taste. Jealousy didn’t look good on anyone.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, only to be accosted by what I could only describe as a puppy in human form. She strode right in with no preamble, kicking off her shoes and folding me into a giant hug.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Madison. I almost peed myself when Garrett told us you’d invited us all over for dinner.”
She was about my same height and was wearing a maroon romper with a floor-length, cream cardigan. Her hair was styled in that perfect messy bun straight-haired people were capable of creating, and it tickled my face as she squeezed me.
Releasing me, her head whipped around the house, landing on the two figures on the couch and heading straight for them, her mouth already moving in greeting. I watched her in shocked silence, still frozen from where she’d accosted me.
“Please excuse my wife, she might be a little tipsy.”
Garrett scoffed, “Drunk, you mean. She might be a little drunk.”
Seeing the two men standing next to one another in decent lighting, I could see the distinct similarities in them I hadn’t been able to see the first time. Garrett was an inch or two taller, and his brother carried a few extra pounds around the middle, but their stances, the way they both stood straight with their arms crossed over their chests was nearly identical.
I held to my original estimation that Harry was around his early fifties, maybe late forties. Although his face wasn’t quite as cut from stone as his brother’s, he was also incredibly attractive. I looked back and forth between Garrett’s smooth face and Harry’s trimmed beard, trying to decide which look I preferred more.
As if sensing my attention, Garrett’s eyes cut to mine, searing me in place before dipping to my shoulder. His jaw clenched, the movement sexier than it had any right to be, and I immediately had my answer.
Layla hollered from the couch, pulling me from my thoughts, “So what you’re actually saying is Sarah here is winning, and the rest of us are behind?”
“Oh, I like her. Not to worry though, we came bearing gifts. Harry, where’s our gift?”
Sarah made her way back to her husband, taking a bag from him I hadn’t noticed and rising on her toes to give him a deep kiss. Plunging her hand in the bag, she pulled out a large bottle of amber liquid. “Who wants to play a game?”
Layla and Rick both whooped, the latter giving the first a firm butt smack as they hopped off the couch. I shifted on my feet awkwardly, suddenly second-guessing where this evening was headed.
“Maybe we should eat the food that was prepared for us first?” Garrett addressed Sarah, but his eyes were still on me.
“That’s probably best,” Layla sang, passing me to slip into the kitchen and grinning evilly. “Mads here, is a complete lightweight on a full stomach. You don’t want to imagine her on an empty one.”
I frowned, “I’m not that much of a lightweight.” I just rarely drank liquor. I was fine sipping wine or beer, but liquor made me uncomfortable. I hated the feeling of not being in total control of myself. Some people liked that out-of-body feeling, but I hated it. It never led to anything good.
Dishes clanged off the counter as Layla set bowls out for everyone, laughing as she did. “I beg to differ. Remember that time you showed up to school drunk, and ended up puking on a teacher before breaking your nose on a toilet when you passed out over it?”
Every head turned my way. Sarah burst out cackling while Harry and Rick both fought back smiles. Garrett simply raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to confirm or deny it.
The daggers I shot Layla would have terrified a lesser woman. “I’d taken shots of Everclear, and I was fifteen.”
Rick set his full bowl at the table, patting my back in commiseration as he walked by. Given his lifestyle, he probably had firsthand experience of the mayhem Everclear could create.
He could be a little obnoxious, but overall, I didn’t mind the guy. I gave him a grateful smile, but it fell when tingles shot across the back of my neck. I peered over my shoulder to see two slits of hazel eyes looking at me.
I frowned, wondering what I’d said wrong. Maybe he just didn’t find my story as funny as the rest of his family? I tilted my head in silent question, but he looked away, accompanying his brother into the kitchen.