I told Rain my brother and sister-in-law were going to her family’s for Thanksgiving and taking my mother with them, so if she wanted, we could go to Diane and Wally’s for dinner. I hated lying to her, but I couldn’t tell her the truth either. I hadn’t spoken to Dylan since our fight unless I had to. He didn’t appear in any hurry to speak to me either.

When I called to invite my mother for dinner on Friday so she could meet Rain, things didn’t go any smoother.

“Chase, your brother is worried about your relationship with that woman.”

“He’s jealous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. You need to meet her for yourself—and before you come over here with any preconceived notions, which I assume are coming from Lorraine for some reason, since Dylan doesn’t even know Rain. I’m asking you to judge her for yourself. I’m in love, Mom, and I don’t need to justify my feelings to you or Dylan or to anyone else.”

“You’re being awfully defensive, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t expect my brother to uninvite me for the holiday because his wife doesn’t like my girlfriend.”

“From what I understand, he didn’t uninvite you. He just didn’t invite this young woman.”

“Same thing. And as far as Rain is concerned, you all are going to dinner at Lorraine’s parents’ house. I’m not going to hurt her feelings and tell her she wasn’t invited. And I’ll tell you another thing: until Dylan apologizes, he’s on my shit list.”

“He’s your brother!”

“Exactly.” I was being rude, but I didn’t care, even if it was my mother. “He should know better. I’ll see you Friday night. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”

My mood hadn’t lightened much by Thursday, which only served to remind me of the way my family was responding to Rain and to me, by extension. I’d promised to try to handle this jealousy thing better. It was a completely new and unexpected emotion for me.

When I picked Rain up at her apartment Thursday afternoon, I was relieved to see she was wearing a simple, light-colored lace dress with a high neckline. It was still tight and short, but it was one of the most conservative things I’d ever seen her wear. She looked beautiful—and yes, sexy—and I told her so as she slipped into her coat.

She grabbed two apple pies off the kitchen counter as we headed for the door.

“I thought you were making a pumpkin pie.” Pumpkin was my favorite.

“I was, but when I opened the can, it made me gag. It must have been bad, so I tossed it and made another apple. My mom’s making a pumpkin pie and bringing it with her, so you’ll have your pumpkin pie. Oh, and I invited her for dinner tomorrow night, so she can meet your mom too.”

She gave me a big smile and I smiled back.

“That will be nice.”

Actually? It might be anything but nice.

I loved Dorinda. Rain took after her in a lot of ways, so how could I not love her mother? She was sweet to me even before Rain and I were a couple. And she was in my corner, and for that I was grateful. But like Rain, she was a bit flashy. She was only in her midforties but dressed like she was in her twenties. She easily pulled it off, but I cringed at what my mother would think. My mother was the grandmotherly type—and a bit judgmental, which worried me.

“Will Chase’s mommy be my new grandma?” Izzy asked from the back seat.

“Izzy!” Rain spun around. “What did I tell you about asking those kinds of questions?”

I glanced in the rearview mirror. The kid must take after her mother in the psychic department.

Izzy’s little face crumpled. “Sorry.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “What kinds of questions has she been asking?”

I glanced over at Rain. She didn’t blush easily, but her cheeks were pinker than usual.

Before she could answer, Izzy did.

“I only asked if you were gonna be my daddy.”

“Izzy!”

“And what did Mommy say?” I persisted.

“She told me to mind my pool cues.”

“P’s and Q’s,” Rain corrected her.

“I don’t like peas,” Izzy said.

Rain sighed. “Never mind. Just don’t ask questions like that. It’s not polite.”

I reached across the console, took Rain’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t have any problem with questions like that.”

She shot me a look, but I caught the light in her eyes. “You mind your pool cues too.”

I smiled all the way to Diane and Wally’s, but it faded almost as soon as Rain took off her coat. I was waiting to hand her the pies when Wally whistled.

Rain’s somewhat conservative dress wasn’t conservative at all. A heart-shaped cutout exposed most of her back, enough to see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She was all smiles with the attention, and as she turned to carry the pies into the kitchen, Wally swatted her bottom with an open palm.

I took off my jacket and jammed it against his chest. I leaned in close enough so that only he could hear me.

“You do that again, and you and I are going to have a serious problem.”

He looked about to laugh, but when he realized I wasn’t joking, he checked himself.

“C’mon, man. I don’t mean nothing by it. I’ve always done that.”

“Well, it’s going to stop. And if you know of anyone else who thinks it’s okay to put their hands on her, then you better let them know I won’t tolerate it. She’ll be treated with respect just like everybody else’s wife or girl, or I’m going to start busting heads.”

Wally rubbed the spot on his chest where my fingers had connected. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

Maybe I was overreacting, but my blood was boiling. No one had the right to do that to her, although she should’ve been the one to say something about it. It had been going on so long, I don’t think she even knew it was wrong anymore. That was just the way they treated her. My chest tightened as I thought of the calendar. For some reason, she treated her body like it was a public commodity—like sharing it was part of who she was. Well, it was going to stop. I had no idea how I’d get that across to her, but I would.

“Just . . . don’t. Okay?”

He raised his hands in surrender and directed me to a cooler on the deck with the beers. “Take two,” he suggested.

When I came back in through the kitchen, Rain was trying to extricate herself from an older man, probably Diane’s great-uncle, who seemed intent on dancing with her, even though there was no music. I assumed she could read my mind, because when she saw me watching, the look on her face said: Let it go. I’m handling it.

I shook my head, found a seat on the couch, and watched Green Bay get trounced by the Lions for the next two hours.

* * *

Izzy fell asleep in the truck on the way home. I carried her into the house, slipped off her coat and her shoes, then tucked her under the covers. Before I left the room, I dropped a kiss on the top of her head and ran my fingers over her soft, golden curls. We’d planned to read another chapter from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe tonight, and I’d been looking forward to cuddling with her. Our nightly ritual had become one of my favorite parts of the day.

“She’s out like a light,” I said, returning to the living room.

Rain stood by the door, her coat still on.

“I think she wore herself out with Diane’s nephews,” I said, slipping off my jacket. She still hadn’t moved. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

The look she gave me bore through me like a laser beam.

“What are these?” I caught a flash of red on glossy paper. My jaw stilled into a tight line.

One perfect eyebrow arched upward. “Well?”

She held up at least a dozen months’ worth of February, torn from calendars throughout Millstone.

I felt like I’d swallowed the Sahara. My tongue cemented to the roof of my mouth. I blinked. Twice.

“Chase.”

I might even have stopped breathing. Or maybe I was just buying time because I didn’t have a defensible answer.

Still gripping the evidence, she folded her arms and angrily tapped the toe of her cheetah-print stiletto in my direction.

I jutted out my chin and tried to look indignant. “What were you doing in my glove compartment?”

Suspicion flashed across her face. “That’s your answer? How long have you had these? And why?”

Shit. She probably thought I was a fucking stalker.

“Not long.” I stared at the wall above her head, afraid if I made eye contact, she might incinerate me.

“Just one, I might be flattered—but there are fourteen here, Chase. Fourteen. That’s creepy. And a little stalky.”

My eyes slid down to meet hers. I frowned. “I’m not a stalker.”

“You’re something,” she sighed, slipping out of her coat. When she turned to hang it in the closet, I got another panorama of her bare back.

I didn’t dare say what I was actually thinking: That the way she dressed sometimes made me act like a crazy person; a maniac running around town and demanding the month of February from anyone stupid enough to admit they still possessed a year-old calendar.

“That’s it?”

I shrugged.

She tossed the calendar pages on the coffee table and headed for the bedroom.

I forced my feet to follow.

“Because I don’t like the idea of other guys looking at you like that. I can’t help it. I’m a guy. I know how we think. I look at that picture, and my damn jeans get tight, but that’s okay. You’re supposed to make my jeans tight. I just don’t want you making anyone else’s jeans tight.”

She pulled a face. At first she looked like she would lash out at me, but she spoke to me as if I were a child. Why not? I was acting like one.

“Relax, okay? Very few men have ventured where you’ve gone.” She gave me a sassy little smile and shrugged. “Besides, it was a fundraiser for pediatric cancer. And I wasn’t even naked. I was wearing a turtleneck, for god’s sake.”

A turtleneck? Seriously? I struggled to format an answer to this that wouldn’t piss her off, some way to point out that while her get-up did in fact have a neck and sleeves, it had no middle or bottom.

“And I might as well tell you, I’ve done some other modeling for the photographer who shot the calendar. Just some artsy black and white stuff. I’m not even sure what he does with them.” She shrugged again, as if that were that, then slipped her arms from her dress and let it fall to the floor. Just as I’d suspected. No bra. I peeled my eyes off her breasts.

“And if this bothers you that much, then you should be glad I turned down that other offer.”

“What other offer?”

“The magazine,” she said, slipping into her robe and cinching it tight. “After I did the calendar, I got a call from a magazine offering me twenty-five hundred dollars to pose naked. I didn’t take it—so relax, okay?” She gave me a dismissive shake of her head. “Good thing. Not that I have any problem with posing naked, but after this, I could just picture you driving all over the country and pounding on doors, demanding that men hand over their copies of Delicious.” She frowned. “And just so you know, there would’ve been an additional twenty-five hundred if they’d used me on the cover.”

Brains. Mine. All over the bedroom wall.

“What?” She looked annoyed.

“Nothing.” I shook my head, the same head that was trying to wrap itself around what she was telling me.

“It’s no big deal, Chase. Jeez.” She whipped open the robe and threw it on the floor, knowing damn well what she was doing to me now. “It’s just a body. Everyone has one. Some people can sing, some can paint, some are good at math, some can tune an engine until it hums. My talent is this. I don’t even have to work at it.”

She strutted past me and into the bathroom. Again, it was as if my feet had grown roots.

“You’ll probably have a problem with this too,” she called out over the sound of running water, “but I was a life drawing model at the college last spring.” I could tell from her garbled voice that she was brushing her teeth. “I’m sure if you go up to Rutgers, you might be able to bribe someone to give you a list of all the students in that class. If most of them live in the dorms, you won’t even have to travel too far to strong-arm them into giving you their work.”

When she noticed me leaning against the doorjamb, she wiped her mouth and grinned.

“Funny,” I growled.

“You’re the one who’s funny, caveman—”

I didn’t let her finish. I grabbed her around the waist and tossed her over my shoulder. “I can’t help it. This,” I said, slapping her bare ass, “is mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing it or touching it—or any of your other assets.”

I tossed her on the bed, and was relieved to see the annoyed look in her eyes had been replaced with something I could work with.

She gripped my T-shirt in her hand and pulled me down on top of her.

“You’re a caveman, all right. But you’re my caveman.”

* * *

“How about roast beef and mashed potatoes tomorrow night?” Rain asked after some pretty amazing makeup sex. Not that we’d had a fight. It had been more of a loud discussion. But I still needed to make it up to her, because in my head, it could have gone much worse.

I opened my eyes. “Who doesn’t like roast beef?”

“I know you like it. Does your mother?”

“I guess. Don’t fuss.”

“I’m meeting your mother for the first time. I want her to like me. I want her to know I can cook, and I’m taking good care of you.”

“I told her you’re taking great care of me. She’ll love you.” I planted a kiss on her forehead and rolled away. It was hard to face her when I was worried that my mother might not love her, at least not right off the bat, thanks to my brother and his busybody wife.

Which was why I stupidly asked what she would be wearing tomorrow night.

“Why?”

“Just wondering. My mom’s kind of old-fashioned, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”

Yes. “No. It’s just that it wouldn’t hurt for you to cover up once in a while. You’re a beautiful girl, Rain. You’d look good in anything.”

“Except what I usually wear? What was wrong with the dress I had on today?”

I flipped back toward her. “It had no back. Weren’t you cold?”

With the look I was getting, the temperature had dropped in the bedroom.

“I was fine. It was a nice dress.”

“It was. It would have been great for cocktails at a club in Manhattan, but it was a little much for Thanksgiving dinner with friends.”

“Oh, now it’s too much. I thought it wasn’t enough.”

I rolled on top of her, pinning her in place, and stared down at her until I could see a crack in her stern facade.

“Fine,” she said, trying to hide a smile. “I won’t wear that dress when your mother comes tomorrow. But I do have a red turtleneck I could probably wear.”