"Oh Lord, she taught you that?Hannah, did you by chance catch it on video? I'd love to see it!" I laughed, thinking of the stupid dance she'd seen at a wedding recently. One of Alex's cousins had gotten married, and at the reception the DJ played "Do the Funky Chicken" by Rufus Thomas. Gracie had loved it and begged me to teach it to her.
"No, I was too busy laughing to even think of recording it," she said, giggling at the memory of her huge manly former college linebacker husband flapping, strutting, and pecking like a chicken. "She even put a feather boa around his neck, so he'd look more like a chicken!" She said through her giggles. I laughed until I had tears running down my cheeks. Dean just chuckled, not overly embarrassed at being the butt of the joke.
Once we'd all settled down, Gracie said her goodbyes, and I hugged them both, thanking them profusely for taking care of my daughter. I quickly explained to her that Mr. Marco was going to be driving us around for a few days, and that we were going to have a sleepover at Grandma's. I simply told her that the camera people wanted to get pictures since they had seen me on TV with Nico. She'd had brushes with the paps before when we were out with him, so she understood.
Nico texted me as we drove to my parents' house.
Nico:Good morning, Sunshine. Hope I didn't wake you. We're at the airstrip getting ready to take off, but I'll call you as soon as we land. I really want to see you this afternoon.
Me:No, you didn't wake me. Michael did that, at 6:09 to be exact. I've already picked up Gracie, and we're staying at my folks' house for the couple of days at least. Be safe, and I'll see you later.
It was almost 10:30 by the time we pulled into my parents' driveway. I assured Marco that I wasn't going to go anywhere for the rest of the day, but he insisted he was supposed to stay there on-duty, at least until we were sure nobody had discovered we were there. He sat down in one of the rocking chairs on their front porch, apparently planning to use that as his sentry post for the time being.
My parents greeted Gracie and me with big hugs. It quickly became apparent that they had decided to ignore the whole redheaded bitch thing, and instead focused on The Kiss. That's how my mom referred to it. The Kiss. She made it sound like an event of epic proportions, like The Super Bowl, The Academy Awards, The Kiss.
"So, about The Kiss," she started the moment Gracie went to go play in the room they kept for her.
"Ugh, Mom, do we really have to talk about it?" I asked, with the tiniest bit of whine in my voice.
Dad looked pointedly at me. "Yes, baby girl, as much as I'd rather not, we do really have to talk about it. Are you two an item now?" he asked.
"I don't know that I'd call us an item, Dad. We're more like friends who had a little too much to drink." He rubbedhis midsection and looked like I was giving him indigestion. I probably was.
"Oh, sweetie, it looked a lot more serious than that," Mom practically gushed at me. "I've seen friendly kisses, and I've seen drunken kisses, and then there was the scorching hot lip-lock that man laid on you!" she exclaimed.
"Aaaaand, I'm out," Dad said quickly, hurrying out of the room before he was subjected to any more of this conversation.
"Wait, Dad...take me with you!" I called out to him teasingly.
Mom huffed. "I don't know what his problem is. He's apparently forgotten that he's laid a few scorching hot lip-locks on me over the years."
"Aaaaand, I'm out too," I said with a groan. "I need to be fed and caffeinated if we're going to have this discussion.
Mom followed me into the kitchen, where I raided the refrigerator for a snack while she poured us both glasses of iced tea.
"All right now, spill it. What's going on with you two?" Mom demanded, as she sat down at the table.
I put down the caramel dip I'd found in the fridge and grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter, then washed and sliced it as I tried to explain the situation to my mother.
"So, you think he only kissed you because he was drunk?Did he say he doesn't want to pursue a relationship with you or are you just assuming he doesn't?" she asked when I had finished talking.
"Come on, Mom, I don't need him to come out and say it," I scoffed, scooping out a spoonful of dip onto a plate with the apple slices. "We've been friends for years, and he's never ever tried to kiss me like that before."
"Well, you've never tried to kiss him before either, and I think you'd like to be more than friends. Why can't the same be true of him?" she pointed out.
I rolled my eyes so hard that I'm pretty sure I got a quick glance at the inside of my skull. "Mom, I'm not Nico's type. I know it, you know it, Nico knows it...hell, the whole western world knows it by now. So, no matter what I might or might not want, we are just friends."
Mom shook her head slightly. "You're selling yourself short, Allison Rose, and I thought we raised you better than that. Just because Nico was drawn to a certain type in the past doesn't mean diddly-squat. Did you ever consider that he was only drawn to them because those where the kinds of women who were around?" She continued more gently, "I've seen the way he looks at you, and I've seen the way he acts around you. And I definitely saw the way he kissed the beans out of you. I think he wants to be more than friends, honey."
She stood up, having clearly said her piece on the subject. She patted my arm as she left the room, leaving me to contemplate her words as I finished my snack.
A couple of hours later, Nico called to say they had just landed, and that he was on his way over. A few minutes after that, my mom came in to let me know that she had just gotten off the phone with Nico's mom.
"Angela called and asked if we could bring Gracie over for a visit. Nick's mom is there, too, and would love to see her. I told her that we would take her over for a few hours, while you stay here and relax. We probably won't be home for dinner. I think Nick is planning to fire up the grill. You know how he and your father both get that 'Have fire. Must cook meat.' caveman mentality going on when they're together anywhere near a grill." I smiled, because yes, they did tend to do that.
They pulled out of the driveway, driven by Marco, about five minutes before Nico arrived. My first impulse when he'd called was to run upstairs and put on a little more make-up and fix my hair, maybe put on a nicer shirt. I stopped myself as soon as my foot touched the second step. What the hell was I thinking?It was just Nico. It was fine. No big deal. I did take the time to run a brush through my hair though. It was looking a little messy.
I had the front door opened before Nico even closed the car door. He hadn't waited for the bodyguard to come around to open it for him as he was supposed to. Nico took the front steps two at a time, and I stepped back into the house, so he didn't bump into me. He wrapped an arm around my waist as he backed me up even further so that he could swing the door closed behind us. Without a single word, he pulled me close and buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.
