“I know.”
“You loved to play with my makeup when you were little. You lovedChicagoand sang along to all the songs.”
“So you’ve said.”
She sliced and diced so quickly and efficiently I’d worry she’d take off a finger if she hadn’t been doing it her whole life. She slid the veggies into the skillet I’d placed on the stove.
“I really thought you’d be a musical theater major.” She smiled. “Dad used to always call you his little star.”
My throat tightened. I hated when Mom got maudlin about Dad. He’d died when I was only six. A blood clot had caused his heart to fail after a routine surgery. The kind of thing thatneverhappened—until, of course, it did.
Apparently, I’d lost my interest in singing and dancing and all thoseclichegay boy things after that. Sometimes, it made Mom really sad. But the truth was, I didn’t even remember those days. Maybe I’d have grown out of mystarphase either way. I couldn’t carry a decent tune to save my life, so I was probably doing the world’s audiences a favor.
“I can’t believe you don’t even want to do drag,” Mom said aggrievedly.
“Aw, Mom.” I slipped an arm around her shoulders with a little laugh. “I’ve got no talent for it. You know that.”
She sighed. “I guess.”
I squeezed her. “I was just a kid going through a phase.”
“Are you really going to use thephaseargument?” she asked, her tone saucy. “Because I could say that maybe the handsome neighbor is just going through aphaseas well.”
I laughed. “Yeah, a phase where he loves to drive mecrazy.”
“Well, he wouldn’t be the first boy to show his interest by pulling pigtails.”
I shook my head, smiling, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”
“Is it so bad I want my only son to find love and be happy?”
“No.” I gave the veggies a stir, then added the shrimp. It would only take a couple of minutes to finish the meal. “But I’ve already signed up with the Matchmaking Mamas. That’s about all the meddling I can take.”
Mom’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I hadn’t heard that!”
“Town gossip has really let you down,” I teased. “I’ve already gone on one date.”
“Ooh, tell me everything!”
I snorted. “Well, there’s nothing to tell. We’re not going out again. But the mamas have another date in store for me this weekend.”
“Oh, with who?”
I opened my mouth to tell her, then realized I didn’t know. “Um. I don’t think I got his name.”
“Oh, a mystery man. Well, that’s fun!”
“Yeah,” I said weakly, wondering if I should call the Mamas back and get more details. But then they’d said my date would pick me up here again, and did it really matter? My only ex who was still single had moved to Riverton, so I should be in the clear for any awkward run-ins.
It wasn’t like I had much hope the dates would lead to real love, anyway. I’d been working too much since opening the store and getting out more was good for me. That was all.
And if it continued to get under Damon’s skin, well, that was just a win-win.
CHAPTER 10
Damon
The Stag Pubwas hopping for a Wednesday night, when I’d casually strong-armed—er, invited—a few of my friends to meet for drinks. That it happened to be the same night as Maverick’s next date was purely coincidence.
