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I chuckled, standing back to let her in. “Was the sourdough a success?”
With glee in her eyes, she said, “You have to try this focaccia. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
She set the pan on my counter and peeled back the foil. Sure enough, there was a corner of the cheesy, crusty bread missing. Della got a butterknife from my drawer and handed it to me. I cut myself a piece and put it in my mouth, ready to tell her it was the best damn thing I’d ever tasted, regardless of whether or not it was true.
But then a burst of garlic butter flavor mixed with mozzarella and tangy bread took over my taste buds, and I accidentally moaned. “You made this?”
She nodded, making her red curls bounce.
“And it didn’t come out of a box?” Dang, my brownies may not be as impressive as I thought.
This time she shook her head.
“Pretty and talented too?” I went to her, taking her in my arms and dipping her for a kiss. She giggled as she stood up. “How did I get so lucky?” I asked.
She reached up to kiss my cheek. “I’m the lucky one. Thank you for braving dinner with my parents.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I cautioned. “I might just fuck it all up.” Real fear hid behind my joking tone, and I went back to stirring brownies to hide my anxious expression. I didn’t need her worrying about my feelings.
“Even if it goes badly, we have time to change their minds,” she reminded me, hugging me from behind.
Just that little gesture eased some of the tension in my shoulders, and not for the first time, I wondered why the fuck I was so against relationships before. Sure, I was stressing about her parents liking me, but I also got Della. She made all the worry more than worth it.
I turned away from the brownies, looping my arms around her. “You’re distracting me.” I brushed my nose over hers.
She pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “And?”
I smiled against her kiss. “Just thought you should know.” Our kiss deepened, and the brownies were completely forgotten. Winding my hand around the swell of her ass, I pulled her closer to me.
She tangled her fingers in my hair and nipped at my bottom lip. I shuddered at how sexy it was and trailed kisses down her throat. “Do we have time for a quickie before your parents get here?” I asked. “Please?”
She giggled. “No, they’re always?—”
The doorbell rang.
“Early,” she finished with a sigh.
She stepped back, straightening her dress, and I cursed my semihard cock. Nothing could soften it like her parents standing at the door, though. Adjusting myself in my jeans, I followed her to the front door, pasting a smile on my face.
My dad had given me tips on making a good impression on her parents, and I followed every one.
Keep eye contact and smile.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t planned on Chopper. He burst up from his bed, darting toward the front door and jumping on Della’s dad. He stared in horror at the little thing.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Della scooped up the dog and said, “Our puppy.”
Her parents shared a worried look.
“Welcome to my home,” I said quickly, stepping back to let them inside. Then I shook her dad’s hand, nice and firm. And I told her mom she looked lovely.
But then Chuck said, “Are you coming on to my wife?”
The blood drained from my face.
Della said, “Dad, you’re going to give him a heart attack.”