Cursive - By Phoebe Lane Page 0,75

disappointed, but grateful that he was being conscious about her mom's presence and the importance of first impressions.

As he lifted his lips from her cheek, he ghosted the tip of his nose over the side of her face and whispered in her ear, "This will have to do for now. But just know that in my head I just tasted your lips and gave a proper hello to Fourteen."

Aislynn closed her eyes, her breath coming out ragged as he lightly ran his fingers over her belly button. She felt a delicious warmth spread all over her body, like the one caused by a vintage glass of scotch on a cold night.

"Get a room, you two," Pam said behind them, and Aislynn froze. She turned around and realized Pam was looking at Ellie and Evan, and not her, thankfully.

She turned back to Jace, her cheeks now tinged a dark shade of pink, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips.

"Breathe," he whispered. "How's everything going so far?"

"We've had some hiccups, but the last few hours have actually been okay," Aislynn said. "Are you ready to meet her?"

He nodded without hesitation. "Are you?"

Things became very clear for Aislynn at that moment. She reminded herself she was not a little kid anymore, even though Pam insisted on treating her like one. She was no longer four-year-old Aislynn making a mess in the kitchen, or fifteen-year-old Aislynn bringing a boy home to meet her parents for the first time. She was an adult Aislynn now—responsible, educated, and independent—allowing her mother to meet the man she was falling in love with. There was no need for tiptoes or eggshells.

I've been through enough. This should be easy, in comparison.

Aislynn focused on the bright green eyes that stared back at her. Like a traffic light, they gave her the go-ahead signal and the motivation to live her life the way she wanted, not the way Pam felt she needed to. Aislynn gave in to the desire, her need, to melt into Jace's arms and taste his lips. The sound of multiple soft gentle kisses shared between them echoed in her ears until her eyes fluttered back open, his scent now dancing around her like the smoke of soft, burning incense.

"Yes, I'm ready," Aislynn said with confidence and took his hand.

"Atta girl," Aislynn heard Ellie proudly whisper as they all walked together into the kitchen.

"Mom, this is Jace Quinn. Jace, this is my mom, Pam," Aislynn said, grateful that the rush of confidence she had just experienced was also being reflected in her tone of voice.

"It's so very nice to meet you, Mrs. O’Neill," he said, extending his hand in greeting.

"Good to meet you too, Jace. And you can call me Pam," she said, a pleasant smile on her face.

"How did you know that was her last name?" Aislynn whispered in his ear while Ellie introduced Evan to Pam.

"It was in the email you showed me," he answered back.

"Damn, you're good."

"I sure hope so," he said, before turning his attention back to Pam. "How do you like San Diego so far, Pam?" he asked.

"I have to admit I'm not in love with the humidity, but everything else has been great. The market was amazing, and I got a great view of the coast," Pam said.

"Dinner smells absolutely delicious," Evan added, his southern accent slightly more noticeable than usual, and Aislynn wondered if her accent may have changed too since Pam had been in town.

"I'm glad you think so, 'cause the food is almost ready. You guys sit while I finish up," she said, turning around to get the mac and cheese out of the oven.

"We brought dessert," Jace said, reaching for the pastry box. "Aislynn said you were cooking southern food, so we got—"

Aislynn interrupted him with a dramatic gasp. "Buttermilk pie?"

"Happy pre-birthday," he said, and Aislynn hugged him.

Jace and buttermilk pie. It doesn't get any better than this.

There was no other way to describe dinner than to say it was just normal. And a normal dinner, a normal conversation, a normal anything with Pam was automatically abnormal in Aislynn's eyes. She was afraid her mom would bring up an inappropriate subject, like Christopher, for example, so she cautiously observed her throughout the night. Thankfully, her efforts were proven unnecessary. Pam had been rather quiet, pleasantly participating in conversation when addressed directly, and busy finishing and serving dinner. Like a good Southern mom, feeding people was her preferred way of showing love.

Well, that and being critical. But maybe that's just