“Maybe I should just stay here and wait for you, or go to Whit’s and visit,” I tell Mike. It’s Sunday morning and we’re getting ready to go to his parents’ house for lunch. He called his mom yesterday and asked her to change the time so I could be there before I have to get on the road to head home.
“You want to go see Whit?” he asks.
I fight the urge to sigh in relief. “Yes, that would be great. I miss her.”
Mike grins. “Good. I thought you might say that. She and Aaron are both going to be there. I thought it would make you more comfortable. Besides, they’re at Sunday dinners just as often as Olivia and me.”
Damn! “I don’t want to intrude.”
He comes up behind me where I stand in front of his bathroom mirror fixing my hair. “You’re not. I want you there, and my parents are excited to meet you. Liv and Whit talk about you all the time.”
“They do?”
“Yep. They also know we’ve been… getting to know each other.”
“I’m going to kill those two.”
He buries his face in my neck. “It was me, Jamie. I told them. Well, they noticed when I kept checking my phone every five seconds the last time you were in. I was worried about you getting home safe.”
Well hell. How can I be upset about that? I wasn’t really upset with Whit and Liv, but I’m freaking out about meeting his parents. I really like him, but I know this—whatever it is—is unconventional, and I don’t know how to answer questions about us. Are we dating? Are we more than dating? I don’t know how to answer and I don’t want to say anything that is going to mess this up, whatever it is.
“I want you there. With me. Trust me, you’re not intruding, and my parents are going to love you. Besides, I’m sure I’ll be meeting your parents when I come to Chicago.”
My heart skips a beat. He’s still planning on coming to see me. More time with him. “Okay,” I concede. I know I’m being silly and just letting my nerves get the best of me.
“Thank you.” He kisses my neck before standing to his full height, his hands resting on my hips. I catch his gaze in the mirror in front of us. “You’re beautiful, James.” With a gentle squeeze to my hip, he releases me and backs out of the bathroom.
I rest my hands on the counter and lower my head, taking a few deep breaths. I don’t know why I’m so freaked out at the prospect of meeting his parents. We decide to take my car, since I have to leave from there, but Mike insists on driving.
When we reach their house, Mike gives my thigh a gentle squeeze before climbing out of my car. I’m nervous as hell. The ride over, we were both quiet, but comfortably so. I had time to think, and I know my nerves are because I want them to like me. I don’t know what we are or how we can make this work, but I want it more than anything. It’s important that they like me; the physical distance between us is a big enough obstacle.
Reaching for the handle, I climb out of the car. Mike is there waiting, holding his hand out for me. “Trust me?” he asks, pulling me into his chest.
“Yes.” I say it with absolute certainty.
“Then relax, babe.” He kisses the tip of my nose and pulls away. “Come on, looks like everyone else is here.” Fingers laced, we head inside.
“Finally! I thought maybe he changed his mind and decided to hog the rest of your time here all for himself,” Whit says as soon as we walk through the door.
“Thought about it,” he whispers just low enough for me to hear.
“Time to eat,” a female voice calls out.
Mike guides us to a huge kitchen with an open dining room. Olivia and David take their seats as well. An older gentleman who I assume is Mike’s father turns from the stove and I’m struck at how much Mike looks like him. “Dad,” Mike says. “This is Jamie.”
I reach my hand out for him. “So nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.” I rush to get the words out. Mike slides his arm around my waist and pulls me close. He’s trying to help me relax, and oddly enough it works.
“Jamie, we’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand.
“Hello, dear,” his mom says, joining us from the room just off the kitchen. “Had to clean up a bit.” She brushes down the shirt she’s wearing. “I always get a little messy when I make dumplings.”
“Thank you so much for having me,” I say, holding my hand out to her.
“None of that.” She waves me off. I drop my hand and look to the floor, so I don’t see it coming when she wraps her arms around Mike and I together. “I’ve heard so much about you. And this one.” She pokes Mike in the chest as she releases us from her embrace. “He’s smiling a lot more these days.”
Looking up, I find Mike watching me. “You were supposed to make the dumplings for me,” I say, trying to cover the fact that his mom just outed him.
He’s confused at first and then it dawns on him. “I know, but like I said, Mom’s are so much better. I might’ve put in a little request when I talked to her yesterday.”
I lightly smack his chest and turn my attention back to his mom. “I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble. He was supposed to make them for me to prove he could cook,” I ramble on nervously.
“Nonsense.” She waves her hands in the air. “He actually did me a favor since I didn’t have to decide what to make.” She smiles broadly. “Now y’all take a seat before it gets cold.”
Mike leads me to the table with his hand on the small of my back. Pulling out a chair, I sit and he takes the one beside me. Leaning in, he whispers, “Told you so,” with a kiss just below my ear. I fight the urge to shiver, but I can’t prevent the goose bumps that break out across my skin from the feel of his lips on me, his hot breath. It’s a lethal combination.
“So, Jamie, Mike tells us you’re a paralegal,” his dad says.
“Yes. I started out doing odd clerical jobs for the attorney in high school, and once I graduated he helped pay for school. I’ve been there ever since.”
“I bet it’s exciting. Something new every day?” his mom asks.
“That’s a perk of the job. Same work, but some of the dramatics from the cases keep it entertaining.”
“We’ve spent many nights laughing about what some people try to sue for,” Whitney chimes in. “Although, no matter how hard I tried, she wouldn’t tell me who it was.”
“Confidentiality,” I remind her.
“Yeah, yeah.” She grins.
“How long are you here for?” his dad asks.
I feel Mike squeeze my leg. Neither of us is liking the answer to this question. “Today, actually. I need to get on the road before one if possible.”
“Well, eat up. And next time you need to stay a little longer, or this one”—she points to Mike—“needs to learn how to share.” His mom mock glares at him.
“Not gonna happen,” he says, shoving a forkful of dumplings into his mouth.
Heat rushes over me and I can actually feel the blush creep across my cheeks. He did warn me that he was always honest to a fault.
The rest of lunch goes smoothly. Whit talks about the wedding, which has the women at the table, including me, entrapped in the conversation. Who doesn’t love a wedding? The guys talk about fishing and some other stuff I’m not real sure about as I tune them out. I’m trying to keep up with Whit’s conversation, though Mike’s hand gently caressing my thigh makes it a struggle. Not to mention I’m watching the clock; I don’t want to stay too long and end up getting back late.
Glancing at my watch, my heart sinks. It’s already one thirty. I really need to get on the road.
Mike notices and audibly sighs beside me. “Time to go?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.
“Yeah. Thank you all so much for lunch, but I really should be getting on the road. I have a long drive ahead of me.” Mike and I both stand from the table. After hugging Whit, Olivia, and Mike’s mom, I head outside to my car with him by my side.
“I hate this,” Mike says from where we’re both leaning against my car. He still has an iron grip on my hand, his thumb tracing over my knuckles. “Saying goodbye,” he clarifies.
“Not really a fan myself,” I confess.
“I hate that you drive it all on your own.”
“I’m a big girl, Mike. I can handle it.”
“You’re a beautiful woman who’s driving way too many miles on her own. It’s dangerous as fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Fuck, Jamie.” He tugs on my hand, guiding me to stand in front of him. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around me and rests is chin on the top of my head. “It’s not on you, baby. I just hate it. I worry about you.”
“I’ll text you and call as soon as I get home.”
“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers.
“I really need to get going.” I want to tell him that I’ll miss him too, because I will… but I’m barely holding on to my emotions as it is. This is crazy, too fast and too much.
“I know. Please be safe and check in as you go.” He kisses the top of my head.
“Will do. Thank you for an amazing weekend.”
He chuckles. “You gave me the best birthday I’ve had, ever. Thank you for driving all that way for me. I’m so glad I got to spend time with you, hold you.” He kisses the corner of my mouth.
“Selfishly, it was for me too. I was missing you.” My voice cracks as the confession that I was trying to hold in slips past my lips.
His arms tighten around me. “Be safe, James.”
“Will do.”
When I pull away from his embrace, he captures my face in his hands and kisses me. I kiss him back with all the desperation I have rumbling around inside of me. This connection we have is intense, and it breaks my heart to know our worlds are so far apart.
“Go,” he says between soft kisses. “Before I drag you back to my place and refuse to ever let you leave.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say. It does. I want to stay here with him, but my life is in Chicago. I’m torn in two, and the pain of our reality is too much.
“Bye, Michael. Happy birthday.”
“Bye, beautiful James.”
I force myself to pull away and climb into the driver seat. Gripping the steering wheel, I glance in the rearview mirror. He’s watching me, hands clasped behind his head, his eyes straight ahead. I fight the urge to put the car in Reverse and go back to him. With one final look, I pull out of the drive and head toward home.