Mom hugged me back before stepping away. “You know, women share those pictures with all of their friends. Just last week, this guy sent me one of his bait and tackle and I showed it to—”
I curled my lip in disgust. “Jesus. Why was some asshole sending you dick pics? And better yet, what in the hell made you think I would want to know that?”
I was still riding my Levee high, but my mom’s talking about anyone’s “bait and tackle” was more than enough to ruin it.
“I just want you to be prepared. You show one woman, you might as well just send it out as a group message, because all of her friends are gonna see it eventually.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, but I didn’t send any ‘crotch shots.’” Yet. “Thanks to you, my genitalia is safe for yet another day.”
“Oh good. That will make it even more special when you finally lose your virginity on your wedding night.” She gave me a look that dared me to argue otherwise.
Given the fact that she’d walked in on me having sex with Stacy Davis when I was seventeen, she knew better. However, I assumed she didn’t want to know any more about my “bait and tackle” than I did about her looking at pictures of some random dude’s.
Patting me on the chest, she headed over to the claw-foot loveseat in the corner, which was still waiting to be picked up. “This is gorgeous, baby.”
“Thanks. I love the way it turned out. You should have seen it before I started. There were—”
“Yeah yeah yeah. Save your breath. You know I don’t understand a lick of what you say when you get all technical about tools and stuff. Besides, we have stuff to talk about.” She lifted my overflowing ashtray in my direction. “This is ridiculous, Sam. You have to quit. I will not bury anyone else. I can’t…lose you too.” She glared at me.
She and Anne had been on my ass to quit smoking for years. I couldn’t count how many times I’d promised them I would. But, after Anne had passed away, I’d found myself with a cigarette in my hand more often than not. Guilt will do that to you. I needed to stop—I knew that much. But knowing and doing are a totally different story though.
“I’ll stop,” I said, sheepishly shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Swear to me,” she pushed further.
“Come on, Ma. I said I’ll stop.”
She dropped the whole ashtray into the trash can and took a large step forward. She was all of five feet five and a hundred and twenty-five pounds, but she was my mom. That one step was scary as hell.
“Swear. To. Me.”
“Fine. I swear,” I huffed like a sullen teenage.
“Good,” she exhaled in relief, and a loving smile warmed her face. “Okay. Now that we’ve dealt with that.” She took another step toward me and turned serious once again. “Meg tells me that you’re dating Levee Williams.”
“What? Since when do you talk to Meg?”
“Since my son doesn’t feel the need to tell his mother anything anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled me with a glare of guilt only women are able to shoot from their eyes. “You’re dating a celebrity, Sam. You didn’t think, ‘Hey, maybe I should call and tell my mom.’”
I twisted my lips and arched an eyebrow. “Mom, don’t even pretend that you know who the hell Levee Williams is.”
“No. But I’d like to know now that my son is sending her crotch shots!”
I barked a laugh and threw my hands out to my sides. “It was just my abs! And, for the love of God, stop saying crotch.”
She narrowed her eyes then very slowly enunciated each letter as she said, “Crotch.”
Even as she continued to glare at me, I couldn’t help but laugh, and because she was crazy in the best possible way, she did too.
When we both sobered, she went right back to the serious. “All right. Tell me about this Levee girl.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about this, Mom. I need to call Meg and tell her to shut her mouth.”
I was fucking smitten, and if I’d had my way, I would have told the world.