wrong way about. The reason she dressed outrageously was to escape looking like someone else, but the words stuck in her throat. Something about the look on Mick’s face, the same even features that graced Jake’s, made her stop. Maybe the Reed men had it right after all.
Later in the yard with Jake, while a homemade apricot pie was setting, and the kettle was boiling, Rielle realised she’d lost that horribly awkward feeling she had when they arrived. It was a nice night, she was in the company of a man who loved her and his parents weren’t fussing over her like visiting royalty or putting them through the third degree. On top of that, she’d just played fetch with the dog and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched an animal. Except for the ugly dress, these were simple pleasures that made her happy.
So far Jake had managed to dodge the inquisition, but he knew it was waiting, brewing like the tea and it made him smile to think that if Mum didn’t manage to corner him, she’d be up half the night speculating endlessly about Rielle and what her son was up to.
He watched Rie throw a chewed up tennis ball to Monty. The dog was doing ecstatic doggy backside wriggling every time he brought the ball back, and Rie, while not exactly wriggling, looked damn happy too.
“You look incredibly sexy in Issy’s old dress,” he said, coming up behind her, relieving her of the slobbery ball. “Whose idea was that?”
“I told your mum I felt uncomfortable and she suggested it. You like it, do you?”
“I do. A lot.” The dress with her makeup and hair made her look like a cartoon anime girl. “Though Issy was about sixteen when she wore that.”
“Funny, your Dad likes my other look better.”
Jake threw the ball right to the back of the yard. “My Dad should keep his thoughts to himself.”
“He thought I was a stripper or worse, didn’t he?”
He snorted. “Yeah, probably.”
“I told you I wasn’t parent-friendly.”
“You did fine, Rie, thank you. It’s made me really happy to have you here tonight. You’ll have to wait til we get back to the hotel so I can show you how happy.”
“Really, I have to wait?” Monty dropped the ball at her feet. It made a splat sound. “I thought we might have a tour of your old room.”
Jake grinned, reached for Rielle and pulled her against his chest. “There’s an idea. You sure you want to do that? It’s not like it’s been kept a shrine to me. I’ve been gone a long time. It’s pretty much a guest room now.”
She turned in his arms. “I’d still like to see it.”
During dessert all Jake could think of was getting Rielle into his old bedroom and tumbling her on the bed. It wasn’t actually his old single bed, though he did sleep in this one from time to time, but the whole notion of having her in that room, while his parents clattered dishes in the kitchen, was a major turn on.
He reached for her hand under the table and she took it willingly, letting him link his fingers through hers. Until he saw her in the kitchen when they arrived, looking like a fantasy from a parallel universe, he hadn’t focussed on how strange it would be for her to be enveloped by someone else’s family. He knew she’d done this for him and it made him want her all that more desperately.
Knocking back an offer of seconds, Jake stood, Rielle’s hand still grasped in his. “We’re going to my room to listen to records,” he said, coming out with words he thought he might’ve used if he’d ever brought a girl home during his teens. Choking on his laughter and the surprised looks on Trish and Mick’s faces, he dragged Rielle through the lounge room, down the hall and into his old room, backing her up against the closed door.
She said, “Steady tiger,” and they collapsed into each other’s arms laughing hysterically. He didn’t wait for her to catch her breath before tossing her on the bed and kissing her senseless.
Flopping on his back and pulling Rielle onto his chest so he could look in her violet eyes, he said, “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’re here.”
“They’re nice, your parents. Can’t think what they’ll make of me.”
“Why would you worry about that? It’s not your problem what they think.”
“But I don’t want it to be