her until she hands over his plate.
He finishes his before she can get the eggs cracked for her own.
We don’t speak as we watch her cooking in our kitchen.
“You’re happy,” he says, breaking the silence.
“Extremely,” I confirm.
“I don’t mean to ruin your day.” He looks up at Sophia as she sets her plate on the bar across from where we’re sitting. “I imagine Sophia will be joining us for dinner?”
I tense as I watch her reaction, but since she’s uninformed what Rick is talking about, she simply grins at him.
“Do you have special instructions? Maybe you want spaghetti but only with pureed sauce, and let me guess, can I pick out all the parsley because anything green doesn’t fit in your macros?” She smiles around a cheesy bite of omelet.
“No. You don’t have to worry about cooking anything. My grandmother prepares the entire meal.”
Her eyes find mine, and she begins to choke.
I glare at my son as I rush around the bar and clap her on the back.
“You okay?” I ask when she’s finally drawing in ragged breaths, and I’m certain she doesn’t need the Heimlich maneuver.
“D-Dinner?” she sputters. “With your parents?”
“We go every Sunday when Dad isn’t working,” Rick says with an innocent smile. “They’ve been expecting you to show up with us for weeks.”
Sophia’s head swivels on her shoulders until she’s glaring at me.
“What?” I back away, wondering if now would be the time to call in a priest for an exorcist. “You were here when they invited you the first time.”
“I thought they were just being polite.”
“My mother would never invite someone to sit down at her table if she didn’t want them there.”
“They saw me in your shirt,” she whisper-hisses. “I was half-naked in this very kitchen. I thought they didn’t want to seem rude.”
Rick laughs, making the situation worse.
“I figured they invited all the women they’ve caught you with.”
“They haven’t—”
“Dad doesn’t have women over.” He smiles widely. “You’re the first.”
“The only,” I clarify. “I don’t bring women home.”
“You only brought me home because I was drunk.”
“Rick, can you go to your room?”
“I thought this was a family discussion.” I could strangle this damn boy.
“You weren’t drunk last night, and yet here you are,” I remind her, my voice growing low, intent clear in my eyes.
What started as a mild shock about an invitation to dinner is somehow transforming into a situation that’s going to turn graphic very soon.
Rick clears his throat, giving us both a wide berth as he places his plate in the sink. He thanks Sophia for breakfast before hauling ass out of the kitchen.
“You don’t look like you want to discuss dinner any longer.”
“Was that the goal? You know I like it when you argue with me.”
“You do?”
Okay, maybe she didn’t know, but the tent in my sweats is physical proof of my words.
“Are you saying you don’t want to join us? I’m not going to force you, but I’d like to have you there.”
“You don’t think that’s moving too fast?”
“They wanted you there weeks ago. I wanted you there weeks ago. Things aren’t moving fast enough if you ask me.”
“Really?”
“My parents were very impressed with you.”
“They spent less than an hour with me, and they grilled me the entire time.”
“The inquisition will only continue if you join us this evening.”
“Are you trying to deter me from going?”
“I don’t want you blindsided.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird? You haven’t met my parents.”
“I met your parents at the grocery store the night I cornered you at the bar.”
My cock thickens even further at the memory of being pressed against her, my drunken confessions slipping past loose lips.
“You don’t think it will be weird?”
“It’s been weird for weeks,” I tell her truthfully. “They ask about you every Sunday. Mom won’t shut up about it.”
“I’d like to go, if you’re okay with it.”
“I want you there,” I whisper against her lips, my fingers tangling in the oversized t-shirt of mine she insisted on wearing before we left my room earlier.
“I don’t have anything to wear. I’ll need to go home to change.”
“You can wear what you have on.”
“Not funny.” She smacks my chest her hand lingering over my heart.
“It wouldn’t be the first time they saw you in my clothes.”
She tweaks my nipple, finding it shockingly quickly over my own shirt.
I hiss in pain but don’t release her. “Too soon?”
“Are you sure they don’t want me over there just to try to run me off?”
“I’m certain. They wouldn’t tell me they liked you if they didn’t.