“Hazel?” I called.
The door flung open, and there she stood. She wore sheer black tights underneath a soft cream sweater dress. Her hair was styled in careful waves, neater than she typically wore it.
“Is this okay?” she asked, clearly flustered. “I’ve changed like seven times since I got back. What’s the vibe? Casual? Jeans?”
My heart damn near melted.
“You look perfect,” I assured her, meaning every word. She looked beautiful. I wanted to tell her as much, but I bit my tongue, not wanting to overwhelm her any more than she already was.
“You sure?” she asked. “Are you wearing that? Because we don’t look like we’re going to the same event.”
I chuckled, glancing down at my sweats. “I’m changing into jeans and a sweater. Mom likes when we look nice.”
“You’re positive this is okay?”
Her nerves buzzed like live wires. I wanted to reach out and pull her into me, to ground her somehow, but we weren’t there yet and I didn’t want to push it.
“Please don’t be anxious. My family is nice. They like everyone and there’s no pressure.”
“I’m not anxious,” she squeaked. “Why? Do I seem anxious? Oh—” She cut herself off and walked to her bedside table; lava lamp on, of course. She picked up a multicolored bouquet of flowers and presented it to me. “I got these for your mom. Do you think she’ll like them?”
“She’ll love them.”
“You’re sure?—”
“Hazel.” I reached out and took a hold of her arms, using my thumbs to rub firm circles into them. “They’re lovely,you’relovely. It’s going to be great.”
Her body softened in front of my eyes, and I watched as her shoulders loosened.
“Thanks for that. It’s not every day I meet the family of the guy who’s helping me investigate a cat kidnapper.”
It was obviously a joke, but hearing those words come out of her mouth still didn’t sit right with me. It should’ve been “the family of the guy who likes me.” Or better yet, “the family of the guy I like.” But that was on me, partially. We hadn’t cleared the air since the kiss. I had every intention of doing so tonight. First, though, we had to get through dinner.
“Come on, let’s head out. It just started snowing and it’s going to be a big storm. We don’t want to get caught on the roads.”
TWENTY-THREE
Hazel
Storm was an understatement.It was a freaking blizzard outside. Reid had to go ten under the speed limit as the wipers frantically worked overtime to keep the windshield clear.
His parents only lived about ten miles away, but we took a couple of back roads to avoid any cars sliding out on the main road. The drive was silent as I made sure not to say anything to distract Reid. It was the kind of storm where you could barely see a few feet in front of you.
When we finally pulled into his parents’ driveway, we let out sighs of relief.
“Made it. Thanks to these snow tires.”
“Seriously, that got bad fast.” I pulled my coat tight around me as we jumped out of the car, racing for his front porch. Even in the apocalyptic snowstorm, I could see how idyllic this house was. It had a front porch where I was sure a rocking chair or something sat in the summer months, and shutters bordering each window. The whole place screamed cozy and inviting.
That vibe was amplified by about one hundred when Reid pulled open the door. Warmth and the smells of something delicious roasting in the oven wafted out to meet us.
“Reid, is that you?” A woman in her fifties with kind eyes walked down the hall and into the entryway. She wore a fuzzy sweater, and slippers poked out underneath her jeans. “Oh, and you finally brought Hazel.”
The way she saidfinallymade me smile. As if I wasn’t some girl who had only been in her son’s life for a matter of weeks.
“Hi, Mrs. Mitchell. It’s so nice to meet you. Your house is beautiful.” I handed her the flowers that I had managed to keep mostly protected from the pelting snow outside.
“Aren’t you sweet,” she said, pulling me in for a quick hug before giving Reid a kiss on the cheek. “Come in. Let me get these into some water.”
