Wedding Date (Dating #6) - Monica Murphy Page 0,29

I’ve told you that before.

He’s so thoughtful. So nice. Of course he doesn’t mind. This is the man, after all, who fucked me so well, I worried I might pass out at one point. Seriously, my vision went hazy and I sort of forgot myself. Having sex with Theo was like an out of body experience.

Who knew?

Me: I’ll just meet you in the Safeway parking lot.

We’ve done this before. He knows exactly what parking lot I’m talking about.

Theo: You’re really frustrating sometimes.

Me: Really, Theo? You weren’t complaining last night.

Oh shit. I just went there.

Theo: Neither were you.

Ha. He went there too. I don’t fight the smile that spreads across my face. You’re damn right I wasn’t complaining. Two orgasms in a matter of minutes will do that to a girl.

Me: ??

He hates it when I respond like that, and I respond like that a lot.

Theo: Fine. 1:30 at the Safeway parking lot.

Me: See you then!!!

I send a couple of kissy face emojis as per usual. He sends me a red angry face emoji in response, and I can’t help but laugh.

At least he’s acting normal. Like what happened last was no big deal.

Of course, we haven’t laid eyes on each other yet.

“I should warn you. My family can be…kind of overwhelming,” Theo says as I climb into his slick BMW and shut the door. His car payment is probably as much as my rent. Worse, he probably owns the car free and clear, which makes me feel like an incompetent loser. I’m saving a little bit of money and trying to get my shit together. He’s been helping me with that, Mr. Financial Planner Extraordinaire, but Theo’s responsibleness makes me feel totally behind sometimes. Most of the time. As if I’m lacking, which I sort of am.

But hey. I’m still young. He’s like in his thirties. He went to college and obtained a fancy degree, where I’ve been working my entire adult life, trying to get ahead. Of course he’s got his shit together. I’ll catch up.

Eventually.

“What do you mean, they’re overwhelming?” I ask.

“They’re a little crazy.” He winces. “I’m the calm one.”

“Huh. Well, I’m not scared. I know all about crazy families,” I tell him, which is the truth. I could tell stories for hours about the things certain family members have done. None of them good. Most of them illegal.

He sends me a piercing gaze, one hand draped over the steering wheel, the other wrapped around the car’s gearshift. He’s wearing a black polo shirt and jeans, and there is nothing sexual about his outfit whatsoever, yet I can’t help but think how sexy he looks.

Maybe it’s the way the shirt fabric stretches taut across his firm chest. Or how tight the denim clings to his thick thighs.

I have a thing for thick thighs. Say that three times fast.

“Really?” He sounds curious. Probably because I never mention my family to him ever, and he’s tried to ask. I just always divert the conversation. “You’ll have to share those stories with me sometime.”

“Sure,” I say lightly, though I’m really saying never going to happen.

It’s none of his business.

We make casual conversation the entire drive, and I’m lulled into what I can only assume is a false sense of security. We never once bring up last night. Or what happened between us. How I could still smell him on my skin when I first woke up this morning, or how sore I am between my thighs. I really took a pounding.

And I’m not complaining.

The drive to Theo’s parents’ house is long, and they live on one of those winding country roads that takes us deep into Carmel Valley. They seem to go on forever, and I’m sure it would be a more pleasant drive if I wasn’t so nervous about meeting his parents. But I am. Nervous. My palms are sweating, which is ridiculous. This means nothing.

But I want them to like me.

When we finally pull up to the closed iron gate, I sit up and take notice. It’s green and lush everywhere the eye can see. And there are so many grand oak trees, I can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been on this earth. Probably hundreds of years.

“This is amazing,” I breathe once we pull through the gate and we’re heading down the endless driveway.

“My parents own sixty-five acres,” Theo says, sending me a quick glance. “I grew up out here.”

“It’s so beautiful.” We drive past a pond surrounded by trees that has the cutest little wooden