Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,30
It didn’t help that most of the traffic lights were flashing yellow, if they worked at all. Drivers were waiting until enough cars gathered at a light to bully our way through the intersection together. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable accident happened.
The close calls were making me palpitate, so I started flipping on my lights at the intersection, no siren, to help my group out. They clung to Danny’s Charger like Velcro. If I drove into a tree, there would probably be twelve thumps right behind me.
Danny’s response to inviting his mother over still stuck in my craw. She’ll be fine. That was surprisingly cavalier terminology from someone who thought nothing was good enough for his mother. According to the badge in my back pocket, I was pretty good at piecing together clues. There could be only one reason he wouldn’t offer her the guest room at chez McKenna-Christiansen.
I didn’t bother to find a tactful way to broach the subject. I might be great with clues, but I was shit at diplomacy. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“I didn't think I had to.”
At least he didn’t pretend not to know what I was talking about. I was suddenly glad we were stuck in a car. I couldn’t indulge the part of me that wanted to stalk off. Pouting was never really all that productive, just extremely satisfying.
“She knows that we spend most of our time together anyway. I just didn’t tell her that we officially moved in together.” His tone was a tad defensive. “She needs a little time. She really liked you, you know. Before.”
“She did not like me. Before or after,” I said. “Even our first time around, she didn’t invite me to any family functions, up to and including Thanksgiving dinner.”
“That wasn’t about you. She was uncomfortable with me being gay and was actively trying to change my mind. You, she liked. She thought you were polite and handsome and mild-mannered.” His mouth quirked despite the seriousness of our discussion. “I love her, but clearly, she's delusional.”
I huffed. “If she liked me so much, what exactly did she hope to gain by disinviting me to Thanksgiving dinner?”
“She wanted me to know she didn't approve of my ‘lifestyle choices.’ And she… sort of set me up on a blind date.”
“A date!”
He groaned. “Rain, this was a long time ago. Years ago.”
“That’s a different version of praying the gay away, I guess. One dinner with a nice woman, and hey, I’m straight now! Pass the potatoes, will you?”
“I do agree, it was a bit naïve.”
“The word I’m looking for is stupid.”
He sent me a squinty-eyed look. “Are you calling my mother stupid?”
“I'm calling the idea stupid. And why didn't you tell me about it?”
“What was there to say?” He shrugged. “And it’s not like anything happened. Or would ever happen, for that matter. My mind has been set on an endless refrain of Rainstorm Christiansen since I first laid eyes on you.”
He sounded low-key annoyed about that, but it went a long way to mollify me. We went another mile of uneasy silence before he spoke again. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll tell her.”
Accept the olive branch for what it is. “Don't do me any favors,” came out of my mouth instead. Apparently, I didn’t accept olive branches—I set them on fire and wrote fuck off with the ashes.
“Rain,” he said warningly.
I sighed. “Sorry. I meant you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I want to do it. Besides, I promised you several things when we decided to try again. Do you remember that?”
“Of course I do.”
“I asked you to trust me, and in return, I promised to be someone you could trust. I promised my faithfulness and fidelity—"
“Freaky sex on the regular—"
“And above all,” he continued, looking vaguely amused, “I promised I would always do my best to make you happy. I'm keeping that promise.”
Damn that man. Every time I erected a barrier, even a temporary one, he smashed through it at ninety miles an hour. “You already do,” I finally said.
He made a huff that was equal parts embarrassment and amusement. “Please don't be sweet. It just too weird. I can almost see your grinchy little heart growing six sizes.”
He chuckled at my glare. A moment later, he touched a few keys on the Navi screen, and the sound of a phone ringing filled the car. I gave him a questioning look that he ignored.