Once the formalities were done, I pulled out a chair so Becca could sit down. She crossed her legs and tucked her dress underneath her.
I squeezed into the spot next to her and listened to my dad talk about how their next-door neighbor’s dog was always getting loose and shitting in their yard, but my attention kept drifting back to Becca. She was laughing and nodding along when my mom and sister asked her about her work.
When her knee bumped into mine, I shifted in my seat, suddenly aware of how close we were. It was just enough to catch the scent of her perfume. It was warm, clean, and subtle. That’s when I started noticing things I probably shouldn’t.
The way her eyes would crinkle when she laughed. How her cute bow lips were always shiny with lip gloss. I was ashamed to admit that I was imagining those lips in ways that were borderline inappropriate for dinner with my folks.
“So, how long have you two known each other?” my mom asked.
“Long enough to know that he probably regrets inviting me to sit with you.”
I felt my lip twitch despite myself.
Mom smiled at her in a way that she usually did when she decided she liked someone. “Well, you must be really good at what you do. Nate usually avoids journalists like the plague.”
She wasn’t wrong. I could only imagine what they were all thinking. From the outside, I was aware of how it looked. Me inviting a smart, beautiful woman to join me and my family was probably sending the wrong message.
Becca laughed, not missing a beat. “Oh, trust me, I know. That’s why I’m trying my best to stay on his good side.”
I chuckled, imagining how hard that must be for her. For once, she was the one under the microscope.
Welcome to my world, sweetheart.
Callie rolled her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s not as intimidating as he looks.”
I scoffed. “Callie, don’t ruin my reputation.”
“So, should I leave out the fact that Mom still buys your clothes?” My sister grinned, clearly proud of herself. “And does your laundry when she’s in town?”
“Are you serious?” Becca asked, a little too enthusiastically for my liking. I could basically feel her committing that piece of information to her memory.
For the record, I was a fully functioning adult. My mom, however, still hadn’t gotten the memo. She insisted on doing my laundry whenever she was in town, and the woman loved to shop. I was tempted to jump in and defend myself, but it would only make it worse.
I pointed my fork at her. “You are not putting that in the article.”
Mom laughed, and Dad shook his head. I should have known better than to put those two next to each other.
“At least I didn’t tell her about your haircut in third grade.”
I choked on my water. “Callie, I swear to God…”
I was making a mental note to never trust my sister to keep a secret again.
“What haircut?” Becca asked, sitting up straighter in her seat.
Mom patted my arm. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. All the boys on your Pop Warner team had the same mullet. It’s okay.”
I reached for my glass of wine, wishing I had grabbed something stronger from the bar before I sat down.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Can we please talk about something else?”
My sister glanced at me for a minute. Something flashed across her face. I probably didn’t want to know. Callie was a hopeless romantic. She loved people. She liked making people happy. She believed there was someone on this planet for everyone. I looked away, not wanting her to get any ideas in her head.
I tried focusing on my dad again. On the fundraiser. Anything other than the woman sitting next to me, making herself at home with my family without even trying.
Dad was saying something about the auction. My mom was nodding along, and Callie was angled toward Becca, talking animatedly with her hands. I was suddenly pulled back to how our bodies were pressed against each other on the dance floor. The way her hands rested lightly on my shoulders, like she wasn’t sure where to put them. For a split second, I thought about kissing her. And that had me wondering again if I had misread things and whatever connection I thought we had was in my head. I was usually good at reading women; that’s why I was confused, because I was almost positive she wanted to kiss me too, which didn’t add up because she was seeing someone.
A guy named Tom Tucker, who was a detective, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
