Dirty Talker (Slayers Hockey #4) - Mira Lyn Kelly Page 0,12

are all over us.”

Her eyes light. “This is intense.”

I nod. “So here’s the game plan—”

“Not a jock here.”

Maybe not, but she’s got the focus of one.

“We’ll check into the hotel this afternoon, which gives us some time with the family and then a good excuse to cut out for a break.”

“Nice. We’ll be able to address any questions that come up in private.”

Harlow is all about the mission.

“Or, you know, catch a nap or a few minutes without the familial barrage of questions that’s about to come raining down on you.”

Yeah, my brother’s the one getting married next week, but having me home for a stretch like this is an opportunity my parents don’t see often. Grace and Bill will not squander it.

And the fact that I’ve brought a girl along?

They aren’t going to want to let her go for a second.

“Will they think it’s weird that we’re just sitting out here?”

I laugh and lean in, kind of wishing I could kiss her because… Well, because I’m nervous as hell and it would be a really nice distraction. Or it would be if I could forget how completely not interested—not even a little bit—she is.

Instead, I bring our foreheads together and watch her lips. “This looks like I’m kissing you.”

Suddenly, she pushes me back with an indignant squawk. “We’re in your parents’ drive, Wade. So I can meet them for the first time. Seriously, there’s no way I’d start making out with you before we go in.”

Probably not. And then she’s slipping out the passenger side door with a laugh as I reach for her hand, wanting to hold off the inevitable those few seconds more.

But no dice.

The front door opens wide and the circus comes pouring out.

Harlow

Wade’s mom hits us first, hands shot up in the air, a peppy bounce to her step that hints at her cheerleading roots. And then she’s squeezing Wade’s face and pulling him down into a hug.

The second she releases him, his father whips a football at him. “Think fast.”

Wade catches it without a blink and shakes his head as his father closes in to slap his shoulder and pull him in for a one-armed hug. “Still got it, kid.”

When his dad steps back, he’s got the ball again and drapes an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

They turn to me, smiles wide, and my heart starts to pound. Because suddenly this isn’t just about me filling my pathetic, empty time off with a crazy challenge that’s all about having some fun. I’m not just helping Wade out with some long-standing girl trouble and communal expectations. I’m lying to his family and friends.

Why did I think this was a good idea?

The Gradys seem so sweet. Caring. Invested. Standing together with their warm eyes and smiles that match their son’s, all that’s missing is an apple pie.

But before the truth comes spewing out in a guilty confession, Wade is there, taking my hand with his.

“Mom, Dad, this is Harlow Richards. Harlow, these are my parents, Grace and Bill.”

“Well, aren’t you lovely!” his mom says as I tell them what a pleasure it is to meet them.

Several introductions follow. I offer to shake hands, get looks like I’m adorable, and then get pulled into one hug after another. Wade’s brother Walt is a slightly younger, shorter version of him with a smile that’s somehow even more mischievous. To hear Wade tell it, Walt is the Enderson equivalent of Nettie—the guy who can’t help becoming everyone’s best friend. His fiancée, Janie, is a tiny thing, all smiles and just as energetic as her soon-to-be mother-in-law. She wants to know if I can teach her to make Indian food, and as much as I wish I knew how, I have to let her down because I can’t even cook it myself.

We’re all heading into the house when a late model Impala pulls up the drive, passing the truck to park in a spot at the side of the garage.

Wade shifts behind me, his big hands moving to my shoulders. This has to be her, because not only can I feel the tension coming off him, but the chatter around us has gone quiet.

There’s a flicker of something in Grace’s eyes as they dart from the car to her son. But then Bill’s stepping between us, a warm smile on his face as he waves toward the blonde climbing out with a paper bag of groceries in each arm.

“There she is. Wade, grab those groceries for Kelsey. She’s been running