My gaze drifted to Rory, who was focused on the road. The elegant slope of his neck, his long, dark lashes, and the perpetual smirk that lingered on his lips utterly consumed me. I was so gone on this man.
He pulled into a park in front of a Cape Cod style house with cranberry shutters. The stone pathway leading to the door was in good repair, and the landscaping was top-notch, even in winter, all clear delineations of what would be flower beds and bushes that probably bloomed gorgeously in the spring. Rory vibrated with tension.
“Ready for this?” I asked him.
He arched a brow at me. “Isn’t that my question?”
“You seemed more nervous,” I teased, even though my nerves had started to simmer again.
“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, hopping out of his car. I followed suit, and we strode toward his parents’ house.
Fuck, I hoped they liked me.
It was obvious from his nerves how important his family’s approval was to him, like Harper’s had been to me, and I didn’t want there to be any hurdles between us. I craved being around him—fuck, I wanted it nonstop.
He didn’t knock on the door, just twisted the knob and entered, and I sucked a deep breath.
Then Rory turned back and slipped his hand into mine. It was clammy.
The simple act soothed my nerves for the second time this morning.
The wall of sound hit me first, and we stepped in together to a room full of people in the living room area.
Then, one by one, the six people standing there lapsed into silence, all staring at us.
“No fucking way,” a woman who looked to be about Rory’s age squealed. “Is this him?”
“Fuck off, Ais,” Rory grumbled.
“Wait, who is this?” an older woman asked, her features sharp and her hair pulled back into a tight bun. I assumed she was his mother. “Rory, are you actually…”
“Gay? Yes, we’ve been over this a thousand times,” he said. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Rory Eleanor Brannon. If this is your boyfriend, you better damn introduce us.”
“See this?” He clutched at his chest. “My own mother, cursing at me.”
A laugh escaped my lips. I hadn’t been sure if we’d get here and he’d be a different person around them, but no, it was clear this was one of his safe spaces. He was as ridiculous and irreverent as ever, and I fucking adored that.
“Fine.” He squeezed my hand tight. “I’m only doing this once. Family, this is my boyfriend, Wyatt. Wyatt, my family.”
“I don’t get names?” I asked, amusement bouncing in my chest.
Rory waved his hand back and forth. “Fuck no. They can handle introducing themselves.”
His sister stepped in front of me. “Aislin. Our mother’s right behind me.”
“Hey, don’t you own Anderson Carpentry?” a voice called over. The guy approached, and I pieced together it was Ollie…Brannon.
“No shit. And you and Cor run Brannon Contractors…” The connection should’ve clicked into place earlier due to the shared last name, but somehow I’d overlooked it. I’d had drinks with them before. With Rory’s brothers. Contractors kept tight circles, as you never knew who you might need to refer a job to if it lay outside your sphere. Ollie and Cor were great guys, friendly and easygoing, and they had a great work ethic too.
“Wait, this is the guy you were talking about?” Ollie asked, his question clearly directed at Rory, who ducked his head, a ferocious blush on his cheeks. Ollie slipped an arm around the guy next to him. “Good to see you again. This is my boyfriend, Liam.”
I leaned in to Rory and murmured, “So you were talking about me?”
Rory shot me a glare. “In a fit of pique, I made the mistake of telling my family about you. Don’t make me regret it.”
Rory’s mom nudged Aislin out of the way and extended a hand. “I’m Rory’s mother. I wasn’t sure if this day would actually ever happen, so forgive me if I’m still in a little disbelief. I’m happy you’re here, though.”
