My heart is now melted. “I enjoy it too,” I say quietly.
“Good! That’s what I love to hear.” She waves me over to the side of the path and lowers her voice. “And there’s one other thing you should know. He’s not like them, the other players. He’s from Minnesota, and he acts like it.”
“Like what?”
“Well…” She shifts. “He won’t tell you any of this, but he’s a nice guy, the sort of guy who wants a family someday, and kids, a dog, the big old Christmas cards tradition, you name it. He might say he’s looking for a one-night stand or nothing but a friendship or whatever, but it’s not true. So just be careful, okay?”
“Careful? We’re just friends.”
“Okay,” she says with an unconvinced tone. “I’m just saying that he’s going to be my brother-in-law, and I like the guy. I’m watching out for him. We all are.”
“Just friends,” I say again. “Promise.”
She eyes the pizza, but by this time we’re already at the door. Stopping once more on the front steps, she lowers her voice and leans close to me. “All I’m saying is you’re the first girl I’ve seen him bring home in a while.”
“I’m the delivery girl.”
“But you’re here, aren’t you?”
I hesitate. “Lilia, if you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t he just ask me to spend time with him tonight instead of…this.” I gesture to the boxes. “He could’ve just asked.”
Her eyes fall on the pizzas. Then she grins. “I knew I liked you,” she says. “And I’m happy Ryan’s finally found a girl with her head on her shoulders.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Has he taken you to that dinky little coffee place?” she asks. My astonishment must show, because she continues. “Ryan doesn’t take anyone there. It’s his special alone place or whatever. He’d kill me if he knew I called it that.”
I laugh harder. “It doesn’t mean anything, we just wanted coffee.”
“Take your shoes off and stay a while,” she says, ignoring my arguments. “We all want you to be here. I live here, so I’m inviting you inside.”
“I’d love to, but my dad’s alone at the pizza place tonight.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Have you checked your phone recently?”
“No, why?” I move to get the phone out of my jeans pocket, but my hands are full.
Lilia leads the way inside, relieving me of the pizza boxes.
I look at my phone, and sure enough, there is a text from my dad.
Dad: Andi, is that you? This is your dad.
Me: Dad, you don’t have to identify yourself. I have your number.
My phone pings before I can slide it back into my pocket.
Dad: A very nice man called asking for my permission to invite you in for a poker night, and then he tipped the company two hundred bucks. You’ll go and you’ll play that poker game, do you understand me?
Me: Dad, are you pimping me out for pizza?
Dad: Don’t use that language with me.
Me: I can if it’s true!
Dad: None of your other boyfriends have asked me for permission to take you on a date.
Me: What if I don’t want to go?
Dad: You do. I’ve never seen you so excited for a delivery. And his sister-in-law will be there. She’s a doctor.
I look up now, scrunching up my eyebrows at Lilia. “Did you talk to my dad on the phone?”
She nods. “Ryan called to leave a tip, then asked if he could tip enough to give you the rest of the night off. Your dad had a few choice words to say to him.”
“My dad can be overprotective.”
“He just loves you.” Lilia smiles. “So Ryan asked him permission to take you out on a date—a real date—and said that tonight was just a friend thing. Then I popped on the line, and we got to chatting about physical therapy, and finally he agreed. Your poor dad thinks I’m a nice girl, but boy is he wrong.”
She winks and I laugh, but it isn’t genuine, because I’m focused on the first part of the statement.
“A real date?” I ask weakly.
“A real date,” she echoes. “Your dad said it’s okay, as long as he picks you up and drops you off before midnight tomorrow. Oh, by the way, you have a date tomorrow.”
“Nice of my dad to plan my love life for me.” Even though I have a snarky retort for Lilia, part of me shivers with excitement. I’ve never had a man ask my father permission before he dated me, let alone one as handsome and successful as Ryan. “And remind me how you’re involved?”
“I took the phone when your dad asked for references.”
I almost faint. “My dad asked Ryan for references?”
“It was cute! So I vouched for Ryan, told your dad I’m marrying Ryan’s brother, that I’d stick around tonight to help you as needed. I also had to give your dad my name, phone number, and Social Security number.”
“What?!”
“I’m kidding. Your dad just wanted to know you’re safe.” She grins. “He might seem as if he’ll trade you for a stack of pizzas and a hundred-dollar tip, but he’d never. He loves you, I can tell.”
My dad has the strangest way of showing affection, but since my mom isn’t around anymore, he does his best. With a sigh, I decide to play nice with my dad, even if he’s meddling in my love life like his old Sicilian grandmother.
Me: Dad, I’m here with Lilia. She’s nice. I’m going to play a game of poker and hang out for a couple hours. I’ll be home in a bit.
Dad: Curfew of two a.m.
Me: I’m too old for a curfew.
Dad: You live at home, my rules.
I sigh then look up at Lilia. “I have ’til one thirty. Shall we deliver these pizzas to the boys?”
“We already ate,” she says on a laugh. “Let’s leave them in the kitchen for a midnight snack. With hockey boys in the room, they’ll be gone in a second.”
CHAPTER 20
Ryan
I can’t tear my eyes away from the damn door.
I hear them talking in the kitchen—Lilia and Andi—laughing and chatting and going on and on as if I’m not sitting here in my chair, so anxious to see her that I just folded a pair of pocket aces.
But it’s worth it, because now she’s there, standing in the doorway, red collared shirt and all, looking hot as hell in her tight jeans. Her curvy figure taunts me, breasts straining beneath the slightly-too-small uniform. She offers me a smile, and I wonder if I’m having an aneurysm.
My breath catches in my chest, and that’s when I know I’m an idiot. I told her we shouldn’t—no, demanded we not get involved, and now I can hardly remember how to speak when I’m in the same room as her.
“Hey,” I say with a quick smile. I force myself to turn back to the cards and lay a hand down. It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. My eyes don’t want to leave her. It’s not enough to play these little games together, to have her popping in and out of my life. I want more.