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“Mom, this is Kurtis …” Genevieve looked suddenly flabbergasted. “I just realized I don’t know your last name.”
He thought quickly, and decided to give his mother’s maiden name. “Fraser.”
“Kurtis Fraser,” she told her mom. “This is my mom, Ida.”
Sebastian held his hand out to her mother. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Willis.”
She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too. It’s been a long time since Genny brought someone home.”
“Mom.” Genevieve gave her a look. “We work together.”
“Mhmm.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes.
“Why don’t you come in and cool off for a bit before you go see the horses,” Ida suggested. “Can I get you something to drink, Kurtis?”
“Whatever you’ve got is fine,” he replied.
Genevieve walked in front of him, following along behind her mother, and he couldn’t help but stare at the wispy hairs sticking to the back of her neck or the pale freckles sprinkled there. He suddenly imagined taking hold of her shoulders and pulling her back against him so he could brush his lips against that spot and taste the saltiness there.
“I’ve got some cranberry juice …” Ida looked back at Genevieve and lowered her voice. “For my UTI.”
“Mom,” she whispered.
That did it. Fantasy over.
“And there’s water,” Ida declared.
“Water’s fine,” he said.
Genevieve glanced back over her shoulder as they entered the house and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and waved away her concerns.
They entered through the back door that went through a mud room, and he took in the row of well-worn boots, Carhartt coats hanging on pegs along the wall, and a bin of work gloves.
Genevieve paused and looked at the same for a few beats before continuing on into the house.
Noticing a small rug with a few pairs of shoes on it, he asked, “Should I take my shoes off?”
“Of course not, sweetie,” Ida replied. “Come on in.”
The mud room opened up into the kitchen, where he noticed a sink filled with soapy water, a pile of unwashed dishes to the left of the sink, and more dishes drying in a rack to the right. A wonderful aroma filled the room, and the timer on the oven went off right then.
Ida went to the stove and silenced the timer. “Baking up some cookies for the moms’ group at church.”
Sebastian watched as Genevieve put on some oven mitts and removed the tray of sugar cookies for her mother.
“Is that new lipstick you’re wearing?” her mother asked. “You don’t usually wear pink. It doesn’t always work with your skin tone.”
Genevieve did not reply to her mother’s observations or opinions. Instead, she reached for one of the cookies, but her mom pushed her arm aside before she could get it.
“A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” Her mom looked her over. “Looks like you’ve been eating well lately.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes again and walked to the refrigerator, removing a jug of water, and pouring them each a glass.
He couldn’t understand how she wasn’t upset with her mother’s comments. He was upset for her, but it wasn’t his place to defend her. Especially in the place where she grew up. He had a feeling she’d been rolling her eyes at her mother for a very long time.