“So, how long have you two been dating?” her mom asked as soon as she sat down.
“Mom,” Stella chided, but I reached over and grabbed her hand and squeezed it, letting her know it was fine and I wasn’t bothered by the questions.
“We’ve known each other for a few weeks but have only gone out a few times,” I told her, including the time we went curling and all the times she came to visit me at the bar, even though she likely didn’t count those as dates.
I felt Stella relax beside me right before her mother tried to speak again, but Arthur cut her off.
“So, I hear a bit of an accent, Axel. Where are you from?” her father asked me, clearly trying to change the subject to lessen his daughter’s embarrassment.
“I’m from Sweden. I moved here a few years ago for a job.”
“Sweden? Oh, my goodness. That’s where Stella’s ancestry is from too—but oh, you probably already talked about that. Ignore me… Oh, but this is so exciting. What part of Sweden? Does your family still live there?” I was pretty sure her mother never took a breath during that entire one-sided conversation.
“Jesus, Mom,” Stella mumbled under her breath next to me.
I felt a smile tugging at my mouth, but I tried to hold it back so I didn’t make her mom think I was making fun of her.
“Moira, ease up, or he’s bound to run out of here as fast as he can,” Arthur commented, shaking his head while chuckling.
“Sorry. Sorry.” She held up her hands, waving them frantically as she apologized. “Does your family still live in Sweden?”
“My parents do, yes, but my sister lives in Greece now with her husband.”
“Oh, Greece sounds so lovely, and much warmer than Sweden—and such lovely beaches, I hear.”
I chuckled since that was what ninety percent of the texts my sister sent to me were—beach photos.
“How often do you get to go back home and see them all?” It was a simple question, but this was where things got complicated and what I hadn’t gotten around to talking about with Stella yet.
“I actually haven’t been back since I moved here, but my sister and her husband came to visit me last summer,” I explained, hoping that was enough.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I bet that’s tough.” Her assumption was correct for people who got along with their families. But if you were like me and things were complicated, it really wasn’t as tough as it seemed.
“Would you like to go back home at some point? Not just to visit, but to live there?” Arthur asked, and the way he asked it made it clear he wasn’t asking because he was concerned about my family, but because if I moved back, I might take Stella with me.
“No,” I told him honestly. “I’ve actually had my boss here looking into a work visa extension so that I can try to apply for a green card.”
I felt Stella’s intense gaze on me, and when I turned to her, it was to see her eyes lit with excitement. I gave her a quick wink before turning back to her dad.
“It’s a lengthy process, but hopefully we can get the paperwork done in the next few weeks.”
“We hope so too, especially since you’re family now,” Moira said, causing Stella to jump up from her seat next to me abruptly.
“Who’s ready to eat?” she all but shouted as she turned to me with pleading in her eyes. “Let’s go to the kitchen and eat.”
She was thoroughly embarrassed by her mom’s comments, and while I could admit that her mom was a bit much, it came from a good place. Still, I followed Stella into the kitchen as her dad just chuckled.
We ate a smorgasbord of food—whichapparently was tradition—took lots of pictures, and had switched to dessert and playing card games about an hour ago. Some were familiar tome, like UNO, while others I had never even heard of before, but it was still a fun time.
I was rolling up my sleeves to my elbows to get ready for the next round—something Arthur called sudden death—when I noticed Stella’s gaze on me. Not my eyes, but rather my arms. The skin I had just exposed in rolling up my sleeves was the same area Stella was staring at with admiration.
The heat in her eyes was very clear—she liked what she saw—and damn if that didn’t make me return the favor and direct my gaze right back over her body. But that was a mistake. At some point while playing cards, she had pulled her hair up on top of her head, exposing her beautiful long neck. That neck flowed down to her delicate shoulders, decolletage, and curvy chest.
Do not get hard in front of her parents. Do not get hard in front of her parents.
I focused really hard for this last round of cards, but I failed. Moira won, but it was still a great time. Arthur yawned—his third in the last five minutes—and Stella took that as our cue to head out.
“You need some sleep, Dad. We’re going to head out.”
