“Well, we know for damn sure it wasn’t our son.” John claps his hands onto Dom’s shoulders. Dom rolls his eyes.
“Everyone had a hand in something,” I smile, “even Dom.”
“Except Rory,” Alice throws in there, haughtily.
“Actually, including Rory,” I say defensively. “She designed the kitchen and living room to make it more open and her room which helped with planning the rest of the rooms.” Granted, she didn’t know that she was actually designing it but she came up with concepts we hadn’t even thought of.
Alice looks like she doesn’t know what to say to that. John seems impressed.
I think John’s going to be a lot more accepting of our relationship. He’s a lot more go-with-the-flow than Alice.
After a few more snide comments from Alice and John telling us he’ll be by tomorrow, we manage to push them out the door.
Dom flops onto the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“You okay?” I sit down beside him. He just groans.
I check my phone and notice I missed a call from Kat. I forgot our session was today. I’ll have to call her back later.
Dom’s arm is still covering his face, seeming content on ignoring life. I lightly run my fingers up and down Dom’s side and he squirms beneath my fingertips. I pull his arm away from his face while he’s distracted.
He pouts at me and I smile at his stupidly handsome face.
“Come on, it could be worse,” I tell him.
“How?” Dom sighs, putting his feet up on the coffee table.
“Boots off,” I remind him. I didn’t say anything about the workers or Dom’s parents walking on our brand new hardwood floors with dirty boots on but the guys will not be doing that.
Dom gets up without complaint and puts his boots outside on the porch.
“They could have disowned you,” I say, quietly. “Or refused to have anything to do with us anymore.”
Dom slowly sits down, careful not to knock my arm. He throws his behind me on the back of the leather couch.
We wanted to keep the living room and kitchen sort of connected so we would watch a movie while cooking and stuff. With seven of us, it’s nice when we’re all in one space even when we’re doing different things.
“The house is perfect,” Dom changed the topic and I let him.
“Yeah.” My eyes roam over the kitchen. “Do you think Rory’s happy?” The thought pops into my head.
“With the house or me?” Dom raises an eyebrow in my direction.
“Rory’s not mad at you,” I tell him. “And I meant the house.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, glancing around. “I mean, half the decisions made were hers.”
I think about that for a moment. “This isn’t normal, is it?” I say slowly.
Dom chuckles. “No, it isn’t.”
“It feels…right, though. Doesn’t it?” I turn to him. Knowingness grows in his dark chocolate irises.
“Yeah,” he says softly.
He studies my every expression as his hand reaches out to gently cup my face with the utmost tenderness. I hold my breath as he leans closer and…stops.
His eyes flick down to my lap, zeroing in on my phone.
