girl who broke your heart?”
He stares ahead and bites the inside of his cheek, causing it to hollow. I wish he’d open up. It would be so much easier to have a battle against a known enemy.
“Mara was my first and only girlfriend before you. All I’ll say is, she was unfaithful, and it destroyed me.”
I take his hand and squeeze. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to give your love and trust to someone, only to have them betray you. Infidelity would ruin me.
“I’m sorry. I promise to never invalidate our relationship by being unfaithful. I’m yours, and only yours.”
His large hand wraps around mine to bring it to his lips for a kiss.
“What else do I need to know about your family?”
It is sweet that he wants to make a good impression.
“The best way to earn my family’s respect is to be honest. Engage in conversation and enjoy yourself. They have no filters, so don’t be surprised at how inappropriate they can be. Everyone says exactly what they’re thinking or feeling. Out of the bunch, I’m the most reserved, and that’s not saying much. For example, penises were the topic at dinner for Thanksgiving last year. How you end up talking about man sausage during turkey dinner is beyond me, but it happened. We ended the conversation when my brother thought vaginas should get equal billing.”
“I agree with your brother. Only I’d push for top billing.”
Damon doesn’t know what he’s in for. Going to my home is like entering a clown car. You’ll make it alive, but it will be an experience.
“If they’re like you, I’ll like them just fine.”
“They’re like me, but on steroids. Pay close attention, or they’ll bulldoze you.”
“Okay. I’ll try to keep up.”
Mom must have heard the roar of Damon’s tricked-out Mustang pull into the driveway.
She walks toward us, drying her hands on the kitchen towel tucked into the waist of her jeans. Once we exit, she gives me a bear hug, then walks straight to Damon to say hello.
“This is the Viking god you were telling me about? Katarina, you were right. He is every inch as beautiful as you described. Turn around, Damon, and let me see the whole package.”
He looks at me incredulously as his forehead creases, and one of his brows raises to his hairline
I bite the insides of my cheeks to hold back a smirk and give him an I-told-you-so look.
He nonchalantly turns as told. His blue jeans hug his body, showing what he’s working with while his yellow shirt squeezes his chest, displaying finely tuned muscles. The sleeves stretch over his beautiful biceps—the same biceps that flexed above me this morning.
“Do I pass inspection, Mrs. Cross?”
“Oh, yes, you’ll do. I love a little eye candy at the table. It makes the meal sweeter.”
“Leave him be, Mom. He’s been here for less than five minutes, and you’ve made him an ornament at the table. Come on, Damon. Time to meet the other comedian who raised me.”
My father and brother are in the living room.
“When did you decide to come to dinner?” I ask Chris.
“When I found out you were bringing a boy home, little sister.”
“Damon is hardly a boy. What about you? When are you going to bring a boy home for dinner?”
“I’ll bring one home when I find one worthy of me. I’m not easy, and I’m not cheap.”
“Good for you. Set your standards high,” I tell him.
The rest of the afternoon goes much like the beginning. Everyone sizes up Damon and asks him inappropriate questions.
My dad and brother take turns grilling him about his intentions, and to Damon’s credit, he stands on his own two feet, dishing it back as fast as my family can serve it up.
“Does anyone want more? Maybe something sinful?” Mom asks.
Looking into Damon’s eyes, I see he’s struggling to contain his laughter.
This has piqued my mom’s curiosity. “Is there something I should know?”
“You know your daughter. Sometimes her appetite can’t be sated.”
“Really? I’ve never known her to be a glutton.” She stands. “Is that a yes or no on dessert?”
We opt for a tour of the house instead. It isn’t that big and doesn’t take long to make the rounds. We finish the excursion in my bedroom, where I close the door and grab him by his shirt. Fisting handfuls of cotton, I drag him toward me and pull him to my twin bed.
“Should we be on your bed like this in your parents’ house?” His uneasiness makes me giggle.
“If