air helped relax me. When I came back, Fiona was drinking coffee in the kitchen, her hair wet from her shower.
I kissed her good morning—seemed like I should after yesterday—and told myself everything was fine.
Working on the Pontiac helped. Sure, Fiona was in and out of the shop while we both worked, and sometimes she sang along to my music. But I didn’t mind her being there. I hadn’t since we’d come back from the road trip. In fact, I could admit it was nice having someone around.
Especially her.
And then I remembered what day it was. Tuesday.
That meant dinner at Gram’s.
Should I invite her?
She was standing in the office sorting through something on the desk. I watched her from across the shop. She wore a red headband in her hair and she’d put on a lot less makeup than usual. It made her hazel-green eyes stand out against her fair skin. She’d been cold earlier, so I’d given her my flannel shirt to wear. It was too big, looking more like a robe than a shirt, but it was cute with her tank top and jeans.
Jesus, I’d given her my shirt. Was a flannel the same as a hoodie? Was giving your girlfriend your hoodie still a thing, or had I aged out of that?
This was what I got for not dating anyone since college.
And now I was obsessing over what it meant that I let her wear my shirt. For fuck’s sake, she got cold. She was always cold. I gave her my shirt; it wasn’t like I’d given her a goddamn engagement ring.
But that didn’t settle the question of dinner.
If I brought her with me, my family would be… my family. Gram would probably say something cryptic about the sky or the forest or something, and my brothers would be obnoxious. And they’d all assume me bringing her meant something.
All it meant was that I liked her and we’d made out like teenagers yesterday.
In reality, I already knew I was going to bring her, it was just taking me a while to talk myself into it. I hadn’t brought a girl to dinner at Gram’s… ever. My ex had never come to meet my family, which, in hindsight, should have been a huge red flag.
Sasquatch looked up at me.
“What? Your life is simple, you have no idea what I’m dealing with.”
His head swiveled toward Fiona, then back to me.
“Yeah, I know. I like her, too. That’s kind of the problem.”
I took a deep breath and a jolt of nervousness hit me like a spark. What the hell was I nervous about? This didn’t have to be a big deal. I was going to have dinner at Gram’s. Why not bring her?
“Hey, Fiona?”
She looked up from whatever she’d been doing and a smile lit up her face. “What’s up?”
God, she was beautiful. Not traditionally beautiful, like a model. She was badass beautiful. Dark hair, pale skin, nose ring, tattoos. She was no kitten hiding a set of razor-sharp claws. She was sweet beneath that rock chick exterior, but it was a different kind of sweet. It was honest.
I stopped in the office doorway and leaned against the frame. “My gram has dinner at her house every Tuesday for me and my brothers. Whoever’s around just shows up.”
“Family dinner every week? That’s so awesome.”
“Yeah. Anyway, today’s Tuesday. Do you want to come?”
Her eyes widened a little and her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’d love to.”
The weird sense of nervousness faded. Had I actually been worried she’d say no?
Fuck, I was falling apart. I needed to get my shit together.
A couple of hours later, Fiona sat behind me on my bike, her arms wrapped around my waist. Riding with her was surprisingly enjoyable. I’d never asked her if she knew how to ride, but she seemed comfortable—not everyone was, even as a passenger. And I kind of liked the feel of her back there.
We drove to Gram’s and for once, it looked like I wasn’t the last one here. Asher’s new truck was parked out front, but no sign of the other three. Unless they’d ridden in the bed of Asher’s truck, which was a possibility. They basically all lived right on top of each other, and not that far away.
I parked and we got off. Fiona took her helmet off and glanced around.
“This is literally the cutest house I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Look at all these flowers.”