For some reason, I hadn’t really thought about the fact that Reece would be with me when I went to talk to my parents. I don’t know why, but I guess it was because I don’t think I ever really went to my parents’ house to discuss anything with a guy tagging along.
Well, I’d brought home a guy once, and that had honestly been by accident. I was nineteen, and I’d just been at their house before a date when I realized I’d left my wallet and ID on their kitchen table. After meeting up with the guy, we had to go back and retrieve it. My entire family seemed to have been in attendance, and the poor dude never made it to another date after that.
I somehow doubted Reece would get the third degree from anyone, though. Knowing my parents, they’d roll out the red carpet for him.
We stopped at my apartment beforehand. Reece insisted that he enter first, and I waited just inside the door while he scoped things out. Returning to where I stood, he said, “Everything looks good to me. Do you need help getting anything?”
“No. Thank you.”
Leaving Reece to putter around the living area, I made my way back to my bedroom. I couldn’t suppress the chill that snaked down my spine when I looked around, my gaze settling on the messy bed, covers thrown to the side during my hasty departure and remaining the way I’d left them.
I started the surprisingly painful process of gathering up enough clothes and bath items to get me through a week or so. I wiped at a stupid tear that had snuck free. This was supposed to be a place of comfort and safety for me, not one of fear and paranoia.
When I left the bathroom, Reece was sitting on the edge of the bed. He took one look at me and rose smoothly. “You okay?”
“Of course.” My damn voice cracked.
Doubt crossed his stunning features. He didn’t say anything as I shoved my travel bag into a suitcase I’d loaded up with clothes. Forcing a smile, I zipped up the suitcase. “That should be all.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Remember what I told you?”
“You tell me a lot of things. I don’t always pay attention,” I teased.
A brow rose. “It’s okay to not feel all right about any of this.”
“You’re such a shrink. You sure you’re in the right profession?”
“Don’t give me any lip. I’ll turn you over my knee.” His eyes darkened to a cobalt blue. “Actually that sounds like a fantastic idea.”
Yeah, it kind of did. I wondered if he’d order me to stay still when he did? That made me hot.
He groaned as he stepped forward, curving his hand around my jaw. “I can read your face like an open book.” His voice dropped low, was husky. “You’d like that.”
I closed my eyes, swayed by the deep timbre of his voice. “Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe. You would. Just like you liked it in the kitchen.”
“What time is it?” I asked. “Because I think we have time to test out this theory before we go to my parents’ house.”
Reece tipped his head back and laughed. “Babe, the only times I’ve been in you have been too fast. The next time I strip you down, I want to take my time with you.”
Oh, that hit me in the lady bits.
He swooped down, kissing me quickly before grabbing my suitcase. Sighing, I headed out of the room and grabbed my laptop from the living room. I didn’t let myself look back as I left my apartment.
“Do you know if Colton got ahold of the guy who can hook up the security in my place?” I asked, locking the door behind us.
“What? You’re done staying with me already?”
I grinned at the light tone. “Yes.”
“My heart. You broke it.” Waiting for me to step off the porch, he then started for where his truck was parked. “I don’t know, but I’ll check in with him today and see about your phone. But your spare is working, right?”
“Yep.”
Reece opened the truck door for me, and took my bags, stacking them neatly in the space behind the seats. As he stepped aside, he straightened my glasses and then dipped down, pressing his lips against my cheek. A huge part of me wanted to giggle like a little girl, because there was something so cute about being kissed on the cheek, but I managed to hold it together as he pulled away and loped around the front of his truck.
Turning around, I glanced in the back and then did a double take. At first, I didn’t believe what I was seeing. Peering into the back, I froze. Tucked behind the seat, carefully stowed away, were my easel, blank canvas, and my paints, all packed up. I couldn’t move as I stared at the items. I hadn’t even heard him go in and out of the house, let alone into my extra bedroom, but he . . .
He packed up my paints!
Lifting my gaze, I found him behind the wheel. He was looking at me strangely, and I had no idea what the expression on my face said, but probably spelled crazy. “What?” he asked.
“You thought of my paints,” I whispered.
He glanced to the back and then at me. “Yeah. I figured you’d want them. I have room in the guest bedroom for them.”
I thought about what he said last night, about me needing him, and I sucked in a shallow breath. I don’t even know why I thought about that, but needing him meant that I had way strong feelings for him again, which also meant that if I lost him, I’d be in a world of hurting. And connecting all of that together felt crazy, with an extra side of crazy sauce.
But he packed up my paints!
Standing outside the truck, all I could do was stare at him like a doofus until one side of his lips tipped up. “Babe, you going to get in this truck or not?”
I gripped the door, feeling my heart expand in my chest until there was a good chance it would burst from what seemed like not a big deal to Reece, but it was to me.
He chuckled that smooth, deep laugh. “Roxy?”
“I’m going to get in the truck,” I told him.
A brow arched after a moment. “Anytime this year?”
“I’m taking my time.” I flushed, because I knew I looked stupid. “Don’t want to pull a muscle climbing into this monster. I need a freaking ladder to get into this thing.”
Reece laughed while I made a face at him. Finally, I stopped acting weird and got in. As I was buckling up, he asked, “Who’s that?”
I looked out the window as Kip crossed the front porch of the Victorian, the vestibule door swinging shut behind him. “Oh, that’s Kip. I can’t remember his last name, but he’s the guy who moved in upstairs.”
“Huh.”
Kip looked up, and I lifted my hand, giving him a jaunty wave, which was returned with a little less enthusiasm.
Adjusting the seat belt strap so it wasn’t choking me, I looked at Reece as he pulled away from the curb. His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror and then over to me. He winked. I narrowed my eyes at him. He laughed, and now my lips were twitching. Something about the way he smiled and the sound of his laugh was infectious. I leaned my head back against the seat. There was just something about him.
You need me.
The words floated through my thoughts and even though I wanted to ignore them, they didn’t offend me and I didn’t take them as a symbol of me being weak, a woman needing a man or any kind of crap like that. It meant something far deeper than that, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to delve into.
“Thank you,” I said.
He glanced at me quickly. “For what? The orgasms I gave you last night?”
I laughed. “Yeah, well, thanks for that, but that wasn’t what I was referencing. It’s for the paints. That was really thoughtful of you.”
“That’s me. Mr. Thoughtful.”
Shaking my head, I fixed my glasses as they started to slip. “You’re also Mr. Arrogant.”
“It’s called being well rounded.”
I let go of a very unattractive snort. “Keep telling yourself that.”
By the time we reached my parents’ house I’d almost forgotten why we were going there. The insults we’d tossed back and forth on the way there had me thoroughly and happily distracted, but when we pulled in behind my older brother’s black Volkswagen sedan, I wanted to crawl under the truck seat. Of course it couldn’t just be my parents. Oh no, it was Murphy’s Law at its finest.
Reece grinned as he glanced at me. “Want to make a bet?”
“That by the end of this visit I’m going to want to toss myself under a train?” I unbuckled myself.
Skin crinkling around his eyes, he laughed. “No. That your mom welcomes me to the family by the end of the visit.”
“God,” I groaned, shaking my head. “I am not making the bet, because she totally will. She’ll probably start making booties for the nonexistent baby.”
He laughed again, and that right there made him all kinds of awesome all over again. Most guys would break about a dozen laws to get away from a marriage- and baby-obsessed mom. I’d never tell him that though.
Sighing, I forced myself out of the truck and we didn’t even make it across all the flagstones before the front door flew open and my mom barreled out, her eyes wide as they darted from me to Reece to me and back again.
I swallowed a curse.
Mom stopped at the edge of the porch, clapping her hands together. Literally. She actually clapped. “Honey,” she said, smiling so widely that I thought her face might split into two. “Are you about to make your momma proud?”
“Oh my God,” I moaned.
Reece laughed under his breath as he stepped around me and climbed the steps. Before he could say or do anything, Mom enveloped him in a hug I knew could kind of be painful and dizzying, because when Mom hugged excitedly, it involved a lot of squeezing and swaying side to side.
“Mom,” I said, sighing. “Reece probably can’t breathe.”
“Shush it,” she replied. “It’s not often I get to hug a good-looking young man that’s not my son.”
“Oh dear God,” I muttered.
Reece’s laughing didn’t help, but when he was finally able to pull away, he glanced over his shoulder at me and winked. I shot him a look as I came up the stairs, but he spoke before I could. “I have a feeling my girl is about to make you proud.”
My mouth dropped open.
“My girl? Oh!” Mom flapped her hands in front of her face as she called for my dad. “Best news I’ve heard all—”
“Mom.” I was going to hurt them both. “That is not why we came here and—”
“Don’t ruin this for me.” She turned as I rolled my eyes. Dad was at the front door, brows raised. “Wit, you’re not going to believe this! Reece called our baby girl his girl!”
“Okay,” Dad drew the word out, then nodded at Reece. “It’s about time, son.”
As I passed Reece on the steps, I shoved my elbow into his stomach, nice and hard, too. He grunted, and that gave me a measure of satisfaction.
Mom looked close to tears as she buzzed around the porch, almost knocking off the colorful purple and orange mums. She stopped, spinning toward Reece. “I have to call your mom. We need—”
“Oh for the love of God.” I threw up my hands. “Someone broke into my apartment in the middle of the night and took a picture of me while I was sleeping and I’m probably being stalked. That’s why I’m here!”
Both of my parents stared at me.
“Nice way to break that to them,” Reece said dryly under his breath.
Dad turned to me, letting the door swing shut with a slam behind him. “What?”
I wanted to throw myself down on the porch and flail like a toddler having an epic meltdown.
Reece placed his hand on my lower back. “Why don’t we head inside and talk? We’ll tell you guys what’s been happening.”
And that’s what we did, except before we could get the story out, Gordon and his wife, who were in the kitchen making meatballs, assumed that Reece and I were moving in together tomorrow, getting married next week, and popping out a baby before Megan was even due.
Megan was sitting at the oak table, my brother standing near the island. I had no idea how they were working together like that. Gordon had the meat. Megan had the eggs and the bread. There was a good five feet or so between the island and the table. Trying to figure it out made my brain hurt.
My brother was stocky like my dad and he inherited the crappy vision from our mom. However, his wire-frame glasses seemed to never slip down his nose like mine. Gordon grinned in a way that told me he was about to say something that was going to embarrass me. “Did you know she’s had a crush on you since she was fifteen?”
“Honey,” said Megan, shaking her head.
Reece smiled. “Oh, I know.”
“Everybody knew,” Gordon tacked on. “I’m pretty sure she sketched a picture of you on the wall in her bedroom, and Dad had to paint—”
“Gordon! Shut up!” I screeched.
Dad entered the kitchen. “Yeah, Gordon, shut up. Someone has been messing with your baby sister.”
Gordon lifted hamburger-covered hands from the bowl and his look turned serious in a nanosecond. “What?”
I plopped down at the table, across from Megan, figuring I needed to sit through this conversation. Between Reece and me, we told them everything. Well, almost everything. I left out the undies in the dishwasher thing, because seriously, I didn’t need to share that with my parents, and I also didn’t tell them about the wild monkey sex for obvious reasons.
As expected, my mom freaked out and then got angry, really angry. “How dare someone do this to my daughter!” She slammed her fist on the table, rattling the little bowls of food, and then twisted toward Gordon. “You still got that shotgun? Wait.” She held up a hand, glancing at Reece. “Earmuffs, boy. Because I’m about to suggest some laws be broken.”
Reece clamped his mouth shut.
“Mom,” I protested weakly.
That went largely ignored. “You still have that shotgun, right? You go and stay a night at her place and if someone comes in that door, you—”
“Mrs. Arks, I don’t think that’s a wise idea. I think Gordon wants to be home for when his first child is born,” Reece interjected wisely. “Roxy is safe, and right now, that’s what matters.”
“What matters is you all catch this sick SOB.” Dad’s arms were tensed, folded across his chest as Reece explained everything that was being done. The cell phone was being searched for prints. My apartment would be wired with an alarm system. I’d be staying with Reece until that was done.
It took a while to calm down my parents and brother. Not that I blamed them for their reactions. They loved me and were worried about me, and I didn’t want them to be afraid—and I didn’t want to be afraid of a nameless, faceless freak.
Maybe an hour or so passed, the scent of garlic and meat filling the air, when Mom invited us to join them for their weekly Sunday spaghetti dinner, and when I glanced at Reece, he nodded and I felt that stupid fluttering in my belly, like a nest of butterflies were going to gnaw their way out. As I got up to help get the plates, I realized we were missing someone.
“Where’s Thomas?” I asked, placing the stack of plates on the table.
Dad grabbed a beer out of the fridge. “Oh, he’s over at a friend’s, worshipping Satan or whatever it is he’s doing.”
My brows slowly inched up my forehead as I met Megan’s gaze. Grinning, she ducked her chin. “Well, that sounds like fun.”
“True.” Reece grinned from where he sat. “Nothing like a little satanic worship on a Sunday.”
Mom smacked Dad’s arm on the way back to the table. “Thomas is with his girlfriend. And they’re studying.”
Gordon snorted.
“Now, see what you all made me do.” She lifted her hands, clad in oven mitts. “Forgot to get the garlic bread.” When she had the plate out, she spun toward me and the bread shifted precariously along the baking sheet. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you, since I didn’t get over to see you yesterday, which apparently was a good thing, because I probably would be like Dog the Bounty Hunter on someone’s ass right now.”
Dad sighed.
I couldn’t keep a straight face and giggled as I sat down next to Reece. “I’m picturing you with a blond mullet now.”
“I’d make that look good.” She scooped the bread into a basket. “I ran into Miss Sponsito. Remember her? She’s a curator at one of the museums in the city.”
Oh no. I picked up my glass. “Yes, I remember.”
Thomas brought a vat of spaghetti sauce over while Mom eyed me like a shrew. “Do you also remember how I showed her some of your work?”
“How could I forget?” I glanced at my tea, wishing it had liquor in it. Maybe even some meth at this point. Wait. Could meth be liquid? I’d have to ask Reece. But not right now, because he was eyeballing me as Dad plopped a huge pile of noodles on his plate.
Everyone sat, but Mom was like a pit bull. “She is still very interested.”
“Oh,” I murmured, scooping out the biggest meatball I could find. “You make the best meatballs,” I told Gordon. “Have I ever told you that before?”
Gordon smiled.
“Interested in what?” Reece asked.
“Nothing,” was my immediate response.
Mom shot me a chiding look. “I showed Miss Sponsito several of Roxy’s paintings a couple of months back. She’s interested in commissioning pieces. You know,” she said, looking at me. “You’d get paid doing something you love. Fancy idea. But Roxy hasn’t taken them up on it yet.”
I made a face as I twirled my spaghetti and then almost shrieked as a hand landed on my thigh. Looking at Reece, I raised my brows. He narrowed his eyes. “Why haven’t you done that?”
Good question. No easy answer. I shrugged. “I haven’t had time. I feel like . . . I need to give her something new, something great.”
“That’s why you should drop those damn classes,” Dad said, stabbing at his noodles.
“Dad, I’m trying to get an education. Isn’t that something every parent wants their kid to get?” I asked.
“Every parent wants their kid to be happy,” he corrected. “And you’re not going to be happy with some graphic design degree.”
I drew in a deep breath. “I am happy.”
No one looked like they believed me, and boy, was that kind of hard to swallow. I wanted to shout that I was happy . . . as much as I could be right now. I mean, hello, I had some dude taking pictures of me while I slept, and Henry was out, running around, a total free man, and Charlie . . .
Charlie wasn’t eating again.
I was no longer hungry.
Reece watched me closely, way too intently. “Everything I’ve seen of yours is great.”
“It’s true.” Megan smiled. “You did that painting for the baby’s room. The one with the teddy bear? Every time I go into the room, I’m blown away by how real it looks.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, uncomfortable. When I glanced at Reece, I could see the wheels churning in his head. I’d rather be talking about the stalker and my undies in the dishwasher.
But then, because it was my family, the convo turned even more awkward as dinner wrapped up.
“How’s your father doing?” my dad asked Reece.
I stiffened as I eyeballed him. My dad was oblivious.
“He’s doing okay. On Divorce Number Five Hundred,” he said nonchalantly, but I knew his father’s inability to be faithful and not lie was a huge issue for him. Not a hang-up, though. If it was, he wouldn’t have gotten over the fact I had lied. But still bothered him nonetheless. “Same old same old stuff, basically.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Well, one of these days, I hope your father finds happiness. Everyone deserves that.”
Did they? I wasn’t so sure about that, but my parents were seconds away from finding a tree and hugging it. It was when I was helping Mom clean up the table and Reece had disappeared into the den with Dad, my brother, and Megan, that I was completely cornered by her and the expansion of her grandmamma dreams.
“Are you two stopping by and seeing his mother before you head back?” she asked as she loaded up the dishwasher.
Wait. Were we? I hadn’t even thought about that. I wasn’t sure I could do Round Two. “I don’t know.”
She took the plates I handed her after rinsing them off. A moment passed. “What is going on between you two? And don’t tell me you don’t know. Last time we were chatting about your relationship status, he wasn’t in the picture, and now he is.”
I opened my mouth.
Mom went on. “And I know your brother was giving you a hard time.” She twisted at the waist, looking me straight in the eye. “But, honey, everyone knows you’ve been in lov—”
“We’re dating,” I cut her off before she could finish. “Okay? I guess that’s what we’re doing. It’s nothing serious. Okay? I’m not fifteen anymore.”
She arched a brow.
And I wasn’t drawing sketches of him on my wall. I was painting his face now. Ugh. Walking away from Mom, I snatched up the rest of the silverware and separated the pieces into their cubbies.
“Honey.” Mom touched my arm. “I’m worried about you.”
Straightening, I leaned against the sink and kept my voice low. “Because of Reece?”
She smiled, but it was a pang to the chest, because it was so sad. “Yes. Because I know you’ve cared strongly for him for years, and he’s here, with you. That boy is here, and you’re acting like it’s nothing?”
“Mom—”
A hand came up, silencing me. “And you still won’t try this museum thing? Now, on top of it, there’s some man breaking into your apartment? That has nothing to do with the first two things and it has nothing to do with what I’m about to say to you now. It’s time to have a come-to-Jesus conversation.”
Oh no.
“Just because Charlie is stuck to that bed doesn’t mean you don’t get to live your life to the fullest.”
I drew back as if she’d slapped me. “What?”
“Honey, your father and I know you are carrying a lot of guilt and that you—”
“Roxy?” Reece came into the kitchen, my father and brother right behind him. By the murderous look on all three of their faces, my heart immediately sank.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We need to go back to your place,” he said, and as he walked toward me, his eyes never left my face. “Your apartment was broken into.”