Dragon's Fake Wedding Date - Riley Storm Page 0,29

had to be wrong.

Rann caught himself as he almost started whistling as he pulled open cabinet doors, looking around for what he might find. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing, he told himself. He was making breakfast.

Okay, maybe more like brunch. So we slept in. Then we…well, it’s a late start, so brunch is appropriate.

That was perfectly normal.

Except for the part where he was doing it at Gayle’s house. Where he’d stayed the night. He, Rann, had stayed the night at a woman’s house.

He didn’t do that. It was a rule of his.

Yet not only had he stayed, he’d decided to make breakfast. For the two of them. In his boxers, while suppressing an urge to whistle happily to himself.

“Who am I?” he asked.

But he didn’t stop. The truth of it was, Rann wanted to make Gayle happy. He wanted to impress her. It was an instinct he couldn’t explain, a feeling he’d never felt before. There would be time to analyze it later. For now though, he needed to make some pancakes.

They had expended a lot of energy the night before and then again that morning.

He grinned smugly to himself as he started whisking up the ingredients into batter, the stove preheating a pair of pans he’d found in one of the under-counter cabinets.

The batter mixed, he set it on the counter to rise for a minute or so before he spooned the first few pancakes into the pans. She was going to love this. He hoped.

Something thumped at the door.

He turned slowly at the shoulder, watching the door warily, wondering who it might be. Postman, perhaps? Nobody had knocked and they sounded like they were gone, so perhaps that was—

Knock. Knock.

The two thuds came slowly, spaced apart.

“Crap,” he muttered, padding silently to the door and peering through the peephole, glad that there were no windows on either side for anyone to see in.

An older couple stood outside. The male was holding a box in one hand, while the shorter woman held a pair of bags, one in each hand, and was struggling with a purse that kept slipping off her shoulder.

Uh-oh.

“Where is she?” he heard the woman say. “She knows we’re coming, right? We told her that?”

“Yes dear. It’s her birthday today. She knows her parents are going to be there for it, like usual. She’s probably just running late. Maybe she was in the bathroom, who knows. Here, I’ll knock again for you.”

Rann couldn’t help but smile at the playful bickering between them. It was clear they’d been at it for years, but there was humor buried in Gayle’s parents’ words as well.

Then he blinked. Gayle’s parents.

“Oh no,” he whispered, backing away from the door. “Oh crap.”

He heard footsteps behind him and turned. It was Gayle, she was emerging from the bedroom.

“Are those pancakes I smell?” she asked sleepily.

He nodded.

“Aww, you’re making breakfast.”

“Yup,” he said tightly.

Gayle frowned. “Is something wrong? What was that thudding I heard? Did you break something?”

Rann opened his mouth, but at that moment Gayle’s father decided to follow through with his promise to knock again. The sound stole Gayle’s attention, then she heard his voice. Rann watched her eyes dart to the door. Then to the clock on the wall. Then to him.

“Oh shit,” she hissed.

“Your parents appear to be at the door,” he said with more calm than he felt.

“Gayle, darling? It’s your parents. Are you there?” a female voice called through the door.

“Yeah, I can hear that,” Gayle hissed.

“So, uh, what do you want me to do?” he asked, surmising that she wasn’t ready to introduce him.

“You could get dressed, for starters,” she said, pointing at his nearly nude form.

“Right. Of course.” He headed for the bedroom then paused as he drew about even with her.

“Should I, you know…”

Gayle looked at him. Her father knocked again at the same moment, and the fear in her eyes intensified. Yes, she definitely was not ready for anything like this. Rann cursed himself for not just leaving right away when he’d woken up, but the truth was, he didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to stay.

“Should you what?” Gayle asked uncomfortably, shifting her weight back and forth.

“You know, go out the bedroom window,” he suggested.

“Run away? What about your truck?”

He shrugged. “Say one of your friends had too much to drink last night and someone else drove them home.”

Gayle brightened, some of the discomfort and fear leaving her face. “You wouldn’t be upset if I asked you to do that?”

Rann