Page 48 of Beautiful Trauma
“‘Yeah, you blend,’” Ezra said, mimicking Marisa Tomei’s New York accent.
“I knew you were going to love the movie.”
Ezra chuckled. “Yeah, I did. I can’t believe I waited so long to watch it.”
“If it helps, I didn’t seeMy Cousin Vinnyuntil I moved into Ryan’s Place. I would never have been permitted to watch it at home.”
“It wasn’t a violent or sexually risqué movie,” Ezra countered.
“No, but it’s filled with foul language. My mom thought any exposure to violence, sex, or even swear words would set me on a path to eternal damnation, but all she did was make those things more enticing to me. Well, some of them anyway.”
“Ahh,” Ezra said. “The ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away parenting technique. It doesn’t have a very high success rate.”
“Tell me about it.”
Sensing that talking about my upbringing was the absolute last thing I wanted to be doing, Ezra changed the subject. “Now that I know you enjoy romance novels so much, I have a few gay romance novels I could loan you.”
I looked over at him again, studying his gorgeous face in profile. I loved his chiseled bone structure; it matched the descriptions I’d read in Jessie’s romance novels about dukes and other peers of the realm. As with the heroes in the books, I knew secrets and past hurts hid beneath his beautiful veneer. If there was one thing I learned from reading, the highest or thickest walls hid the purest hearts.
“I don’t know. I might start getting ideas.”
Ezra sat straighter in his seat. “Oh yeah?”
I chuckled. “Notthoseideas. Well, maybe those too. I was thinking more along the lines of scaling the wall surrounding your heart or possibly tearing it down one brick at a time.”
Ezra’s lips turned up into a big smile. “Are you going to rescue me like a valiant knight?”
“If that’s what it takes. I’ll have to borrow someone else’s steed since I don’t own one.”
Hearty laughter burst from Ezra. I thought what I said was more cute than funny, but it had tickled something inside him. “Oh my God. You just reminded me of a story about my parents’ first date.” He tried to tell me but was laughing too hard to speak in complete sentences. All I made out was “dad” and “motor scooter.” His amusement was contagious, and I found myself chuckling too.
My enjoyment dried up the minute Ezra turned into a driveway with an iron gate. He released my hand long enough to push a button on a remote clipped to his visor which opened the gates to reveal a long driveway disappearing into a thickly wooded area.
“We’re here,” he said excitedly.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.What was I doing?
“JUST BREATHE,HENRY.MY PARENTSaren’t royalty, they don’t live in a castle, and you will not have to battle fire-breathing dragons at any point during our visit.”
“Uh-huh,” Henry said in disbelief. Then his breath hitched in his throat when I crested the hill and stopped so he could see the house, barns, and horse paddocks in the rolling valley below.
“This old farmhouse was built in 1890 when Indian Hill was still a farming community. Over the years, the farmland was sold for real estate development, but this old beauty still stands as a reminder of what used to be. Mom said she fell in love with the property at this exact spot.”
“I can see why,” Henry said. “Someone put a lot of care and effort into maintaining this property.”
“The best part is they did it while maintaining the original architecture of the home. I’m jealous this isn’t the home I grew up in.” The front door opened, and my mom stepped onto the front porch. “It’s too late to turn around now,” I told Henry, adding a wicked laugh to try to shake him from the terror setting in as I eased down the driveway. Henry sounded like he was hyperventilating, and I wished I could think of something magical to say to make his panic go away. “At least she’s not carrying a shotgun.”
“What?” he squeaked.Okay, so that wasn’t it.
“Bad joke, baby. Terrible joke.”
“I might never forgive you,” Henry said.
“I promise to make it up to you.” I shifted the car in park and released my seat belt so I could give Henry an apology kiss, but my mom rounded the corner of the house with three Greyhound dogs close on her heels. “You’re not allergic to animals, are you?”
“Only the kind that will eat me,” Henry quipped.
“You’re safe then. Dad made her give the tigers back to the zoo.”