My Favorite Souveni- Penelope Ward , Vi Keeland Page 0,95
going to make this conversation very simple. I want you. I want to walk around town holding your hand, whether that’s in New Orleans or Seattle or New York City. I want your mud masks in our bathroom and your smiles all over our walls. I want you in my bed and underneath me—or on top if you want. I’m not holding back anymore. So when you’re ready, just say the word.”
We stared into each other’s eyes for a long time. Eventually, Hazel nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
She smiled. “Except what’s the word?”
My forehead wrinkled. “The word?”
“You said I just had to say the word when I’m ready. Well, what’s the magic word?”
I kissed her forehead. “How about hooker? I think that’s fitting, don’t you?”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you for being you, Matteo.”
I chuckled. “No problem, considering I don’t know how to be anyone else.”
Hazel looked over at the dumpster. Her adorable nose wrinkled. “Do you think we can get out of here now?”
• • •
“So, how’s your hotel?” I asked my father, who sat across from me.
We’d met my parents at Homer’s, a restaurant I’d taken them to last year when they’d visited.
“Good. I’m happy because they get my sports stations. Your mother’s happy because she found two things to complain about already.”
My mother had been looking down at the menu. She took off her reading glasses. “The bottled water in the room was opened. Who knows what someone could have put in there. The world is a crazy place these days. And the blinds didn’t close all the way. Your father makes me out to be some sort of complainer, but really I’m not. I’m just—”
My father spoke over her, finishing her sentence. “Particular. We know, Marianne. You’re just particular, not a complainer.”
I chuckled. My parents never changed.
Leaning over to Hazel, I asked, “What are you going to order?”
“I can’t decide. So many things look good.”
My eyes dropped to her lips. “I know what I want.”
Her eyes sparkled, and she turned back to her menu to hide her smirk.
“What about you, Mrs. Duncan?” Hazel asked. “What are you going to get?”
My mother leaned forward and wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking of getting the fish, but there’s a weird smell in here. It’s faint, but I caught it while we were huddled in the corner waiting for our table. Smells like maybe the mackerel went bad.”
I put down the menu and folded my hands. “Oh, no. That’s just Hazel. She smells like dead fish.”
Hazel’s eyes widened. “What?”
I shrugged. “You don’t smell it?”
“I smelled something earlier. A few times, actually. But I’d figured the smell was stuck in my nose. You think I smell?”
I leaned to her and sniffed twice. “Yep. Dead mackerel.” I smiled at my mother. “Good guess, Mom.”
My mother looked horrified, while I found the entire thing amusing as hell. Hazel was fun to screw with.
She quietly lifted her sweater and took a big whiff. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers as she realized the smell really was coming from her.
Completely freaked out, she tried to explain to my parents. “I…I don’t usually smell like fish. We went to the fish market earlier today. This sweater is a synthetic blend, and I guess it picked up some of the smell when I was sitting next to the fish dumpster.”
My mother’s brows lifted. “You sat next to the fish dumpster?”
I could barely contain my smile. This shit was getting even funnier by the minute.
“Yes. I did,” Hazel said. “Your son thought it would be a good place to have our coffee.”
Deciding I should probably help Hazel out, I leaned across the table to my mom and nodded. “We were talking about sex.”
My mother blinked a few times, pursed her lips, and picked the menu back up. I looked over at my dad, but he just chuckled and hid his face behind his menu.
Hazel, on the other hand, wasn’t too amused. “Thank you for telling me I smelled.”
I shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me any.”
“Well, it bothers me!”
I leaned close and lifted my head in the air showing her my neck. “How about me? Do I smell?”
She sniffed. “You smell fine.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I thought it was just you.”
Hazel glared at me, but eventually she gave in and started to laugh. “I’m going to kill you later,” she whispered.
I winked. “I look forward to it.”
After that, my mom and Hazel got into a long discussion about whether the expense of truffle oil was worth it or not,