The initial meeting didn’t go as badly as Georgia and I thought it would. Everyone was on their best behavior. But then Rosie brought out the wine and everything changed.

“This can’t be good,” Georgia whispered in my ear after Rosie poured my mother another glass of wine.

“Nope,” I said in a clipped tone.

She’d never been a drinker, but now that she was on her third glass of wine, things would get interesting. “I think the kids should get married in California.”

Mr. Phillips spat out his wine, spraying the coffee table. “Married?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“They’re getting married,” Mom replied, waving her hands at us violently.

“News to me,” he lied.

I’d talked to him last week and asked for Georgia’s hand in marriage. I thought she’d like that I went the old-school route and got his permission. I’d marry her anyway, but I figured I’d earn a brownie point or two.

Georgia squeezed my knee, digging her fingernails into my jeans so hard I could feel their pinch. “Uh-oh,” she mumbled.

I patted her hand. “We will not,” I said. “First, we’re not even engaged. And second, we live in Florida. We’d get married here if anywhere, Mom.”

“Why aren’t you engaged?” Mrs. Phillips asked, giving me the stink eye as her eyes crossed slightly.

Two half-drunk moms did not equal fun.

“When we’re ready,” Georgia told them, digging her fingernails in farther.

“He’s getting old. He needs babies. You get married.” Mom’s short sentences were thick with her Chinese accent.

“He is kinda old,” Mr. Phillips chimed in.

I took a deep breath, wishing I could escape. “I’m not old.”

“You need to get working on my grandchildren.” Mrs. Phillips pointed her finger at me.

“Not before marriage, of course,” Mr. Phillips added.

“Oh, please. She was in his bed this morning.”

“She was?” Mr. Phillips asked with a red face.

“She was. Their clothes were in the living room,” Mom added, thinking she was the funniest person in the world as she laughed.

I grimaced when she finished. Mr. Phillips looked like he wanted to rip my balls off, and Georgia bowed her head. I didn’t think my mom had noticed the clothes behind the couch, but obviously the woman missed nothing.

“Georgia,” her father barked, gripping the armrest of his chair so tightly his knuckles were white.

“Daddy.”

I squeezed her hand as my stomach flipped. I hated that word.

“She’s a good girl, Mr. Phillips,” I said, snarling at him. I wouldn’t let him make her feel bad for anything we’ve done.

“She’s not like those tramps he’s been with before.”

Way to go, Mom.

“Oh, my baby is finally a womannn,” Mrs. Phillips slurred and poured more wine into her glass.

“Fuck,” Mr. Phillips said.

“Oh God, this is so embarrassing,” Georgia mumbled into her hands.

“Everyone needs to stop talking. Georgia is a good girl. She’s not like any woman I’ve ever met. What she and I do is our own business. I love her and she’ll be my wife. She’s mine and always will be. I will not allow you—” I pointed at her father and tried not to yell “or anyone else to make her feel bad.”

Her father sat there, stunned into silence. He sighed before speaking. “You’re right. My daughter has the gentlest soul on earth.”

I bit my lip because that shit was a complete lie. Georgia had a side to her like a cobra. Get her going and her fangs would come out. Typically, they came in the form of fingernails that dug into my balls like a vise.

Mrs. Phillips threw her husband a challenging look. I was sure Georgia had learned the death claw from someone, and I’d put my money on it being Rosie. “She’s a grown woman.”

“I still think of her as a little girl. My little girl.”

“Let go already,” Mrs. Phillips said and sipped her wine. “We’ll have grandbabies soon.”

“I’m pregnant,” Georgia blurted out and laughed.

My heart stopped. “What?” I asked with eyes wider than they’d ever been.

“What?” her father asked, but he leaped from his chair.

“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Phillips said, smacking herself in the face.

Georgia’s dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “Kidding!” She laughed. “See, now sleeping with him doesn’t seem as bad as a baby out of wedlock.”

“You about gave me a heart attack,” I said, gripping my chest as I felt my heart begin to beat again.

She nudged my shoulder, almost knocking me over. “Come on. That shit was funny.”

“Like hell it was.”

“Georgia, you are not funny,” Mr. Phillips said as the color returned to his face.

She let out the sweetest laugh I’d ever heard. “You know I am, Dad. Lighten up. Life’s short.”

“Another bottle of wine?” Mrs. Phillips asked.

“No,” I answered quickly. “I have to work tomorrow. We better get going.” I glanced down at my watch and noticed it was after nine.

“Me too,” Georgia added before standing.

My mother turned the wineglass in her hands. “It’s not a real job.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, ready for an argument.

“I wanted him to be a lawyer. It’s a noble profession, but noooo,” she said, drawing out the word. “He had to join the military, and now he’s a private dick.”

Mr. Phillips choked on his wine and glanced at me.

“Mom, this isn’t the place to talk about your disappointment in me.” I took the glass from her hands.

After Mr. Phillips cleared his throat, he leaned forward in his chair. “I think it’s damn noble that he served in the military and became a SEAL, Mrs. Jones.”

I could’ve caught flies with the way my mouth hung open. Shock flooded me that Mr. Phillips had actually stuck up for me to my mother.

“All that training he went through. He could still be in the military and be retiring soon,” Mom whined before rising.

When I entered the Navy, I didn’t hear the end of it. She constantly complained about my decision, reminding me that she’d always planned for me to be a lawyer. Now that I had left, she wished I’d stayed. I could never win with the woman, and this was another prime example.

“If he’d stayed, he wouldn’t have met our baby,” Mrs. Phillips said, rising from the couch before giving Georgia a hug. “We’ve never seen her so happy.”

Georgia smiled at me as her mother squished the life out of her. I smiled back, glancing at Mr. Phillips, who actually had a smile on his face.

Mom stood and looked me up and down with unfocused eyes. “True, but he wouldn’t have been with those whores.”

“Mom,” I said, moving toward her to herd her toward the door. I glanced at Georgia and pleaded with her to leave using nothing but my eyes.

“We better go. I think Mrs. Jones has to be exhausted,” Georgia said before kissing her parents.

“Thanks for dinner,” I called over my shoulder, pushing my mother toward the door.

“I need to say goodbye,” Mom complained, digging the heels of her feet into the carpet.

“Oh, you’ve said enough, Mom.”

Moving quickly, she ducked my arms and walked behind me, making a beeline for Georgia’s parents. “Thank you for everything,” she said and held out her hand to Mrs. Phillips. “I can’t wait to see you at the wedding.”

Mrs. Phillips grabbed my mother and hugged her. I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t. Mom wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world, and I blamed it mostly on her heritage, but Mrs. Phillips was the complete opposite.

“You can bet your ass on it,” Mrs. Phillips told Mom when she released her.

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Phillips said and shook her hand instead of hugging her as his wife had.

“Thanks,” I said as I held out my hand.

He glanced down and placed his hand in mine. “You’re welcome, kid.” He winked.

Ever since we’d had “the talk” when I asked for Georgia’s hand in marriage, we’d come to a mutual understanding. He dropped his dick routine and treated me as an equal. It was either because of that or because of the way I handled the asshole who ran Georgia off the road, but things between us had shifted.

Georgia walked toward the door with my mom next to her and me following close behind. “Night.”

Once outside, Mom walked in front of us down the long drive toward the car.

“We survived,” Georgia said, lacing her arm with mine.

“Barely,” I grumbled.

“Could’ve been worse.”

“How?”

Mom leaned against the car and yawned. “How far away does Georgia live? I’m tired and don’t want to drive far to drop her off.”

I peered down at Georgia and laughed. “She’s not going home, Mom. She’s staying the night with me.”

“But I’m staying the night,” she said with wide eyes.

“You’re in the guest room.”

“You better take me home,” Georgia whispered, since we were within earshot.

“Nonsense,” I whispered back and looked at my mom. “She’s staying in my bed.”

My mother’s mouth twisted, but she didn’t say anything. I opened her door and she climbed in. “Hussy,” she murmured as I closed the door.

I closed my eyes. My mother had a sharp tongue and always knew how to horrify and embarrass me. Her behavior had to be stopped. I wouldn’t let her decide who shared my bed with me.

Georgia began to laugh.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. “What’s so funny?” I asked and sighed.

“Thank fuck she lives on the other side of the country,” Georgia said through her laughter.

“That shit ain’t no lie.” I laughed too before I kissed her, holding her in my arms until my mom began to knock on the window.

“We going?” she yelled inside and continued to knock on the glass.

“We better go,” Georgia murmured against my lips. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

I shook my head and grinned. “She’s had so much wine, she’ll be out as soon as her head hits the pillow.”

“It’s still going to suck.” Georgia glanced over her shoulder at my mom, who hadn’t let up.

“Babe, tonight you’re going to learn about how fantastic sex can be when there’s a risk you might get caught.”

“Oh, no. We can’t.” Her eyes grew wide.

“Oh, yes, we will.”

“Fuck,” she said.

“I plan to,” I said, and I chuckled before opening her door.

She climbed in silently and stared straight ahead. I’d planted the seed and given her something to think about. Tonight, whether my mom was there or not, I needed to be inside her.

Mrs. Jones had cock-blocked enough pussy in my time, but tonight wouldn’t be another opportunity for her.