“You know, the sweetest girl started coming to my book club. I could see if she’s single.”
Still petting Betty, I say, “No offense, but I don’t trust your dating choices.”
“I’ll have you know that my meddling led to your brother and Keely dating. And now look at them.” Her hand flaps around, giving a flourish to her words.
“Beau met the girl on his own. You just made him realize he was in love. That’s not the same as setting me up with a girl from your book club who’s probably ugly and knits cat hair sweaters.”
She swats my hand. “Colt.That is rude.”
“You’re not denying it, though.”
Mom’s shoulder twitches upward in a move so slight I wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t know her as well as I do.
“Yeesh.She’s a real dog, isn’t she? No offense, Betty Spaghetti.”
Betty licks my forearm, and I offer her the rest of my bread.
My mom laughs under her breath.Still not denying it.And this is exactly why I don’t trust her dating choices.
She leaves me at the table to ponder exactly how ugly this woman from book club is. Whit likes books—maybe I can send her on a recon mission to find out.
Mom slings a white tea towel over her shoulder, picking up a wooden spoon to get back to whatever she’s cooking tonight. “Is Whit pretty?”
I choke on my own spit, coughing and gasping, shakily bringing my beer to my lips.
“Um, uh, I haven’t really noticed.”
“You haven’t noticed if she’s pretty?”
“Nope.”
The wordprettydoesn’t do her justice. She’s a tall, brunette, green-eyed goddess, with sharp features and sharperwit. Every time I look at her, I’m caught somewhere between intimidated and turned-on, and both feelings make my blood turn white-hot.
I don’t know what’s frying in the cast iron, but I’d love to chat about it instead of Whit.
“Whatcha cookin’?” I crane my neck for a better view. “Smells amazing. Bet it’s gonna taste great, too.”
“Caramelized onions for the hamburgers…Isn’t Denny dating her sister?”
“Please don’t talk to me about your crush on Denny again.” Skirting around her to put my empty plate in the dishwasher, I make direct eye contact. Study her pupils to gauge whether she’s had anything to drink today. A couple years ago my parents came to a Christmas party at the ranch, and Mom got tipsy and talked my ear off about how cute Denny is all night.
“I’m simply making an educated guess that Denny wouldn’t date a girl who’s a ‘dog,’ so I’m sure her sister is pretty, too.”
“Did you buy mozzarella for the burgers?”
Her thin eyebrows pull together, narrowing her stare at me.
Guess there’s no mozza.Damn.
“I grew up with three brothers. I married your dad—he’d break his neck to get a glimpse of a pretty girl walking by. And I raised two sons. I know how men operate, and I refuse to believe you wouldn’t notice if she’s attractive or not.”
“I drop Jonas off a few days a week. I’ve seen Whit a handful of times when I was tired from working all day, so I wasn’t exactly thinking about that sort of thing.”
Her soft, warm palm finds my bare forearm, and she rubs slowly as she talks in a hushed, soothing voice. “Colt…do you…are you into boys? It’s okay if you are. You know I’ll love you and your brother no matter who you want to be with.”
Oh. My. God.
Face meet palm.
