Derek’s forehead creases. “What could have them locked in there already?”
I raise my hand. “That would be me. It’s always a good time when the Lockhart sisters get together.”
John pins his lips, all too familiar with our family drama after eleven years of marriage, before he tows Derek away. “We’ll see you later.”
That was relatively painless, so I sigh in relief but still keep to my avoidance strategy. It doesn’t work for long.
“There’s my Tessy.” My dad’s booming tenor floats his nickname for me across the room. He pats one of Violet’s future in-laws on the back and strides toward me, immediately tugging me into his embrace. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Dad.”
He releases me, and we chat about how I am and how work is going for each of us. While he doesn’t approve of my employer, he doesn’t harp on it or refuse to acknowledge my choices. We traipse toward the sunroom, which has a view of the large backyard, filled with gorgeous oak trees that provide a shady retreat from the muggy heat and the midday sun, though we can only see a sliver of the acreage from where we stand at the threshold. There are a lot more guests gathered outside, so we don’t stray any farther.
“Do you like Derek’s family?” I ask in a low tone because a few of them are crowded around a table not far away.
I don’t know much about Derek or his relatives.
My father chuckles, the turquoise eyes matching mine crinkling. “They’re good people. Blending families is …” He trails off, nodding toward my grandmother outside, who is the polar opposite of my mother, before finishing his thought. “Challenging.”
My grandmother is sipping a mimosa and gabbing with her girlfriends, all of them relaxing in chairs on the lawn. Theyappear to be ogling the men who are partaking in various low-key competitive activities. They’re a lively bunch. Much to my mother’s chagrin.
As if on cue, they let out awhoopin unison that transcends the glass-walled room, and I can only imagine the lewd comments they’re slinging.
I laugh and turn back to my dad. “Life would be so dull without a mother-in-law who says inappropriate things during Christmas dinner.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” He smirks, but he means it. He adores her, even though she and my mom have a tumultuous relationship. “Life is too short to let it be dull. Can’t be afraid to live, Tessy.” His gaze coasts behind me. “You’re popular today. There’s another man vying for your attention.”
With a deep inhale, I twist to find Hunter lurking behind us. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and khakis, hands in his pockets, his brown eyes warm and hopeful.
My father kisses my cheek, instructs me to trust my instincts, and strolls away.
“Hey,” I manage, moving toward Hunter to give him one of those half-hearted welcoming hugs that seem inescapable with an ex.
“Hey,” he whispers into my hair before I step back, and he searches me for a long beat. “I was so focused on seeing you today that it’s all I thought about, but I … didn’t nail down what I wanted to say.” He peters off for a minute before finding a place to begin, visibly nervous. “You’re still working there?”
Despite the lack of heat between us, I cared about Hunter. And he loved me. The version of me I tried to be for him and everyone else. Starting with that question only proves he’s still hung up on a life I can’t offer, even if I wanted to.
“I am. Piercing and tattooing now.”
“And that’s what you want to do long-term?” he presses.
“Why? If it were just a hobby I was getting out of my system, would that make me more desirable?” That was snarkier than I intended, but like I said, I’m not great at small talk, so we’d best get to it.
“Tessa,” he chides as his hand shoots to his hair, dangerously close to ruffling his waxy strands. “That’s not what … you really want to kick things off like that?”
Everything is always my fault. I don’t wear the right clothes or have the right job or feel the right things.
As if to debunk that thought process, a guy who I assume is one of Derek’s relatives mutters something I can’t quite catch about people getting wet from Super Soakers and water balloons, to which a girl at the table replies, “That’s a lot of ink.”
Maybe Derek’s family is full oftattooed heathens. I bet my mother hates that.
My grandmother and her friends begin cheering with a round of applause, always bringing the hoopla to any event.
Hunter chuckles at the ruckus they’re making. “I guess I should have known what I was getting into with you, based on your wild genes.”
“Hey.” I elbow him, thankful he’s lightened up. “I’m tamer than my grandmother. She and her friends do have fun though.”
“They do, but … don’t you want more? I do.” He glances between them and me, pensive, like he’s trying to find his thoughts. “They’re happy with each other, but they’re all divorced.”
