Dad threw his hands in the air and waved his racket around. “Argh! You and those fucking net shots.”
Tenor only flashed a smug grin and came over to high-five me. He was unrepentant when it came to tennis with Dad. We’d only played once last month when Tenor and I had gone to Helena. Today, Mom had driven her RV through Bourbon Canyon to meet up. Dad was keeping her rackets at his place, so he’d made the trip for a doubles match. He’d picked her up at the RV park to meet us.
Dad hadn’t won one match yet with Tenor. I also suspected Tenor had given up a couple sets just to let Dad think he had a chance.
“Good game, guys,” Mom said, crossing to the net.
Tenor and I shook her hand, then Dad’s. We went to our respective benches to close our gear back up in our bags. I shrugged into a black Copper Summit hoodie of Tenor’s. It was warm from being draped over the bench in the sun and hung almost to my knees. I had worn leggings, but when the wind kicked up, there was a cool bite to it, promising winter was on the way.
The possessive glint Tenor got in his eye when he saw me in his hoodie would make it hard to take it off again. Unless he took it off. Which he could do any day he wanted. I had moved in with him at the end of last month.
I had meant to quit my extra shifts in the tasting room, but since I now had a handsome escort to and from the bar if the weather got bad, I kept them. He walked me out every Friday. Some nights, we didn’t make it out of the parking lot before he was inside me.
God, I loved this man.
Dad hitched his bag over his shoulder. “Who’s selling that obnoxious house by the golf course?”
“Cara,” I said. I’d seen the for sale sign a couple of weeks ago. She hadn’t come into Copper Summit again, and I hadn’t cared.
Mom pulled a face. “I’m glad you don’t have to run into her.” She hooked her bag over her shoulder and slid her gaze toward Dad. Fondness filled her eyes. “Ready to go, Robert?”
“Whenever you are.” He held his hand out and my heart crawled into my throat when Mom grasped it back.
“What is this?” I blinked at them.
Tenor slid an arm around my waist. I wasn’t unhappy. Should I be? Confusion muddled my thoughts.
Dad turned sheepish, toeing the tip of his athletic shoe into the ground. “I figured if this guy could move past what happened between us, I’d shoot my shot with your mom.”
My parents? Dating? “What about your travels?”
“I’m still doing them,” she said, beaming at Dad. “We’re taking it slow.”
“You know how she gets sick of men,” Dad said, like he’d never been happier his ex had been a player.
She nudged him. “I haven’t gotten sick of you.”
“You haven’t lived with me yet,” he retorted.
“I’ll keep the van,” she said lightly. “When you irritate me, I’ll go to Banff for a week.”
Dad just grinned. “As long as you come back.”
My happiness broke free. My mom and I weren’t star-crossed twins after all. “Good for you two.” I stepped away from Tenor to give each of them a hug. Tenor gave them both a quick handshake. Then they were gone.
“My parents are dating,” I said, my voice filled with awe. “Each other.”
He took my tennis bag off my shoulder and tossed it in the back seat of the pickup with his. I was still staring in the direction my parents had driven off in. He returned to my side and handed me a book.
“What’s this?”
“I have something to say. I hoped this was the right time.”
With a perplexed smile, I flipped through the book. We’d been leaving each other notes in books since we’d reconnected. Mostly, we highlighted all the naughty parts we wanted to try.
I found the page with soft-green highlighter. I’d gotten a set with trendier ink. “‘Will you marry me?’” With a gasp, I jerked my head up.
He sank to one knee in his basketball shorts and baggy T-shirt. His loose shirts had remained the same. He claimed they felt better than tight stuff. And he’d still slouch, but only if he thought it put the other party at ease. He never diminished himself around me, my family, or his.
