Bringing her to my grandparents was a great idea. I like the way she interacts with them, and I love how taken with her my family is. I’m glad my dad saw Gram’s tweet and came running for barbeque. I’m old enough that I guess I shouldn’t need my family’s approval, but I’m honest enough to admit I totally do. I’ve never brought anyone home before—nor have I wanted to.
I ignore the voice in my head pointing out that I didn’t bother to bring Ian. I did let my family encourage him to come along for a dinner when this all started, but it wasn’t like I could tell them to rescind the invite once it had been made. As far as I’m concerned, he’s off the grid until he’s able to talk it out with Devon and me. Yeah we need a third in place, but if he can’t speak up, he isn’t worthy of Devon. For me, it’s all about her—but even admitting as much to myself scares the fuck out of me.
“I like her,” my dad says.
Startled out of my silent thoughts, I look up at him and grin.
“She’s pretty badass, huh?”
Dad shakes his head. “Not the description I was going to use,” he chuckles. “But yes, she is. Your mother is very excited about her.”
“So is your grandmother,” Pop chimes in.
“Yeah?”
They both nod. I can’t contain the shit-eating grin that spreads across my face. Right now, I’m feeling pretty damn proud. My family sees her the way I do.
“Lots of good stuff happening in our family,” Pop adds. “This is a great time. Sylvia and I—we couldn’t be happier.”
He’s not kidding. A whole new world has opened up within a very brief amount of time.
“Granddaughters and a great-grandchild on the way are pretty awesome, plus all the Harts,” I agree.
“It’s wonderful. Those girls and that family—”
He stops talking and clears his throat emotionally.
“I’m so proud of them—of all you kids,” he says. “Flynn’s finally found a girl and you’ve found Devon. It’s like everything is coming full circle. And I think something’s brewing with Todd and Sandra. After Rachel, I wasn’t sure…”
I scratch at my beard and look away. “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “Me either. You really think something’s up with him and the girls’ aunt?”
“I sure do,” Pop says.
“There totally is,” Dad agrees. “Couldn’t be more obvious.”
“For real?”
“You see them together?” Pop asks. “He can’t stop watching her.”
“If you’re right, then you’re damn good,” I say. “I hadn’t noticed, but I’ll keep an eye out for that. I hope it’s true. I never thought he’d ever try again. I mean, not for real. All the women he’s dated have been—”
I trail off, unable to find the right term to describe the women Todd’s seen over the last two decades. They weren’t awful—some were even nice—but they were never meant to stay.
“Not keepers,” Pop says. “Not saying they were bad, just not long term. Not like what you’re all dealing with now. I thought it would take you a bit longer to get that stubborn head out of your ass,” he laughs. “That Devon is a breath of fresh air. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you for stepping up.”
“I second that,” Dad says proudly.
They’re talking about Devon and me like it’s just the two of us, but it isn’t. They know I don’t do those types of relationships. Damn, maybe coming here today without Ian wasn’t my brightest move.
“Do you like Ian as much as Devon?” I blurt out.
Dad and Pop quickly exchange looks.
“Why does it matter?” Dad asks when he looks back at me.
“Because, you know…I don’t like just two people in a relationship.”
Pop grunts as he crosses his arms and pins me with a stare. “I might not understand dating today, but I’ll tell you right now, you aren’t going to share that girl.”
“You know I’m bisexual,” I argue.
“Didn’t say you weren’t,” he responds. “Whether you fell for a woman or a man, I always knew you’d be sitting here with one or the other. Not one and the other.”
I look to my dad for an assist, only to find him nodding in agreement with Pop.
“I’m not that guy,” I insist.
Crossing his arms, Dad graces me with his no bullshit look. I’ve seen it a lot over the course of my lifetime, usually when I’ve tried to get one over on him.
“So Ian could just breeze in here right now, pull Devon into his lap and cuddle her up?”
My mouth opens and closes several times as I try to force out an answer. The idea makes me want to punch fucking walls, but that’s not right. When my voice doesn’t come out, I nod.
“I call bullshit,” Pop counters.
“I second that call,” Dad says. “You do realize you’ve never been able to share what matters, yeah?”
“That’s not true,” I say defensively. “I’m on the road most of the year with three other guys, sharing a life with them. They take my clothes, we eat each other’s food—nothing is off limits.”
“No, you’re on the road with your brothers,” Pop says. “There’s a difference.”
“And even then,” Dad interjects, “you don’t share everything. Some things are just yours. It’s okay, you know. You wouldn’t find me sharing your mother—because she’s mine, and I’m hers.”
I frown at both of them. “Name one thing I don’t share,” I demand.
“I’ve never once in all these years seen you let anyone ever touch your Rachel guitar,” Dad points out.
It’s like the wind has been completely knocked out of me and I sputter stupidly for a few seconds while I try to formulate a response.
“That’s different,” I argue.
“How?”
“Because I love it!”
“And there you go,” Dad says.
My heart races as I look back and forth between the two men.
“Cole, you can’t divide up your heart,” Pop says. “Maybe some people can, but you can’t.”
“I’m sure I could,” I say frantically. “But this isn’t even about love yet—”
“Isn’t it?” dad questions.
These two are killing me with their questions and comments.
“It’s too early to know if I love her,” I insist.
“I don’t think so. I knew I loved Sylvia on day one,” Pop reminds me. “Maybe even within the first hour. Some loves hit you like a brick in the face. I wish for that kind of love for all you kids.”
It’s time to lighten the mood. Maybe if I do, they’ll leave me alone.
“You wish love would hit us like bricks to the face?”
Pop pins me with a look. “Yes, I do,” he answers. “I want you to be hit hard and knocked off your feet. That’s how you know it’s real. True love can’t tell time, Cole. It doesn’t care if it’s five minutes or five years—when it’s there, it’s there.”
“He’s right,” Dad says. “I wanted to ask your mom to be my wife within four days. I waited six more days before I told her. Two weeks later, we were in Vegas at the little chapel getting married. There was never any doubt about what your mom meant to me.”
“Times are different,” I say weakly.
“Times may be different,” Pop says. “But the things we feel in our hearts remain the same.”
My breath is coming way too fast. Jumping up from the couch, I mumble something about needing to use the bathroom. I scurry down the hall, passing said bathroom before bursting out into the yard. Feeling like my knees won’t support me, I drop into a chair and try to focus on breathing slow and deep.
Several minutes pass, long enough for me to feel I’ve regained some equilibrium. They were just talking crazy. It’s that old-fashioned mindset, I assure myself.
I sit forward, preparing to go back into the living room, but then come to a stop as Devon comes through the sliding glass door on the other side of the patio.
“Hey,” she says cheerfully.
I feel better just seeing her.
Sliding back in my chair, I hold open my arms.
“Hey,” I answer. “Come sit.”
She doesn’t hesitate, walking across the patio before taking a seat in my lap and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Are you in a brownie coma yet?” she asks.
“Hell no,” I laugh. “I’d need to have eaten the whole pan to even feel like maybe I should slow down.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “I’m not sure I like any food quite that much.”
“Brownies are to me what sandwiches are to Lana,” I explain.
Her eyes go wide as she looks down at me in shock.
“What?” she croaks.
“She’s always going on and on about sandwiches,” I remind her. “It’s clear she’s got an obsession with them.”
Great body racking laughs erupt from her.
“Oh my God,” she wheezes. “That…is…hilarious!”
“What’s so funny?”
She holds her hand up to indicate I should wait as she fans her face.
“Lana was using sandwich as a euphemism for ménage,” Devon laughs. “She kept saying you and Ian were going to be the bread…”
“Holy shit,” I exclaim. “I thought maybe she had some kind of sandwich OCD.”
I force myself not to dwell on how wrong the idea of Ian touching Devon feels to me now.
“Baby Boy,” my mom calls out from the other side of the patio.
I cringe and hope Devon’s reaction to my mom talking to me like I’m two isn’t awful. When I peek up at her, she’s smiling.
“What’s up, Mom?”
“Gram wants to know if you two would like to watch a movie. Pop got the new Bond movie to watch with you.”
“Let me ask Dev,” I answer.
When I look up at her, she’s already nodding.
“Totally into Bond,” she says.
“We’re in,” I call out. “But tell Gram I want at least four more brownies!”
Mom chuckles as she closes the sliding door behind her.
“You sure you’re cool hanging with the fam?” I ask Devon.
“Of course,” Devon assures me. “I think they’re amazing.”
“They are—and so are you.”
She licks her lower lip and then smiles at me like I’ve just given her the most wonderful compliment ever. Leaning in, she drops a kiss on my lips. Lifting my hand to the back of her head, I hold her in place as I deepen it. She moans softly as she hugs me tighter.
When I pull back, I let out a sigh and rub at her lower lip. “I so don’t want to stop,” I admit. “But I can’t walk around with a giant boner in my grandparents’ house.”
She opens her mouth and takes the tip of my thumb inside before biting down gently and letting go.
“I think it’s too late for that,” she says softly. “You were hard as soon as I sat down.”
I let out a groan as I shift beneath her.
“Just wait until we leave and I get those panties off,” I say huskily. “You’ll be coming all over my fingers before we hit the freeway.”
Her eyes widen as she licks her lips. “Promise?”
I nod. “Fuck yeah.”
She kisses me again softly before standing up.
“In that case, I’ll let you get yourself under control. I’m going to grab a glass of water before the movie. You want one?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “That’d be great. Extra icy, obviously.”
She chuckles as she retreats, and I watch her hips sway as she walks away. Now I’m stuck here wondering how the fuck I’m going to get my dick to go down so I can go inside. Leaning my head back against the chair, I let out a groan.
Who sports wood at their grandparents’ house?
Oh right, me.