"But are you going to tell her the truth?" Jenny presses. "About how we started?"
I nod, squeezing her hand. "I don't like lying to her. But I also want her to know that what we have now is real."
Jenny smiles up at me, that sweet smile that makes my chest tighten in ways I never thought possible. "It definitely is real," she agrees, stretching up to press a kiss to my bearded cheek.
Before I can knock, the door swings open to reveal my mother, beaming at us.
"There you are!" she exclaims, pulling Jenny into a hug first, then me. "I was getting worried when you were late."
"Sorry, Ma," I say, following her inside. "Club business ran longer than expected."
Her expression sobers slightly. "Is everything... safe now?"
I exchange a glance with Jenny. My mother knows the basics of what happened, that there was an attack on the clubhouse, that people were hurt, but not the details of our retaliation.
"We're handling it," I assure her. "But let's not talk about that tonight."
She nods, understanding my reluctance to discuss club violence at her dinner table. "Well, I made pot roast again since you both seemed to enjoy it last time. And I bought that wine you mentioned liking, Jenny."
Jenny looks surprised that my mother remembered such a detail from our previous conversation. "That's so thoughtful, thank you."
Dinner goes smoothly, with conversation flowing easily, and as we're finishing dessert—apple crumble this time—I decide it's time for the truth.
"Ma, there's something I need to tell you," I begin, setting down my fork.
Jenny tenses beside me but gives me an encouraging nod.
"What is it, dear?" my mother asks, looking between us with concern.
"When Jenny and I came for dinner last Friday... we weren't actually dating then." The words come out in a rush. "I asked her to pretend to be my girlfriend because I was tired of you trying to set me up with women."
I brace for disappointment or anger, but to my surprise, my mother laughs.
"Oh, Derek," she says, shaking her head. "I knew that."
"You... knew?" Jenny asks, clearly as shocked as I am.
"Of course I knew," my mother says with a wave of her hand. "I raised this boy. I know when he's lying to me. You both were trying too hard. All those little glances to check if the other was going along with the story."
I stare at her, dumbfounded. "Why didn't you say anything?"
She smiles knowingly. "Because I also know my son well enough to see there was real interest there, even if you weren't admitting it to yourselves yet." She reaches across the table to pat Jenny's hand. "The way he looked at you when you weren't watching, that wasn't fake."
Jenny turns to me, a blush coloring her cheeks. "Is that true?"
"Yeah," I admit, feeling my own face heat. "I was attracted to you from the moment you arrived with Amelia. You were already on my mind. That's why I asked you instead of anyone else."
My mother looks triumphant. "And now? Is it still pretend?"
"No," I say firmly, taking Jenny's hand. "It's very real."
"Well then," my mother says, clearly pleased with herself, "my matchmaking worked after all, didn't it? Just not the way I expected."
Jenny laughs, the sound warming me from the inside. "I guess it did."
"And how is your brother taking it?" my mother asks Jenny directly, never one to dance around sensitive topics.
Jenny's smile turns wry. "He's... adjusting. He wasn't thrilled at first, but he's giving us a chance. He told Beast that if he hurt me, there would be consequences."
