Page 39 of British Daddy to Go

Before I can comment on how unbecoming his statement is, Mom sets a roasted chicken on the table. Dinner is served.

“This looks delicious, Nancy,” Randall manages without a single stutter. “Thank you for dinner.”

Mom beams at him. “Thank you for being here! We’re just so glad to see you and Maggie getting along so well.”

She’s got to be kidding, right? What part of that stilted conversation led her to believe Randall and I are getting along? I am this close to jumping across the table and shaking some feminism into the guy. How dare he tell me I shouldn’t tease?! I can do whatever I want!

“I’ll admit, I’ve w-watched Maggie from afar for many years, but I n-never imagined she’d be interested in me.”

That’s because I’m not!I want to yell. At least the guy has good instincts!

“Of course she’s interested!” my mother informs him before I have a chance to say anything. “Maggie would be lucky to end up with a guy like you. She isn’t very experienced in dating, you know. She’s very pure. The perfect wife.”

I should win an award for my ability to hold back a laugh. My mother isn’t entirely wrong. Technically, I am still pure. I’m not as pure as my parents think I am, though. I’ve also been on two dates in the last week. Who is inexperienced in dating? Not me!

“She sounds perfect,” Randall says, his face even redder than before. “I would be very happy to court her.”

What is this, the 1800s? Don’t I get a say in whether or not a guy gets to date me? Apparently not, judging by the pleased look on both of my parents’ faces.

I’ll never be happy with a guy who can’t take charge. Last night, I went out with Sean, Jenna, and her date, Jeff. Jeff was a bust, but Sean was incredible. He’d chosen the restaurant and made suggestions. He took care of the check before the rest of us even had a chance to offer.

After dinner, we’d dropped Jenna and Jeff off first so that we could have some time to ourselves. Sean had taken charge, his dominant personality pulling me on his lap and kissing me hard, with confidence. I doubt Randall does anything with confidence. Even now, he watches my parents for permission before picking up his fork after saying grace.

I may be physically trapped with my parents and Randall, but they can’t stop my brain from visiting Sean.

His kisses get more and more intense every time we meet. I don’t know how much longer we can continue on without moving further. I wouldn’t stop him if Sean tried to take what I have left to give.

My panties are wet just thinking about it. There’s no way my parents and Randall can tell, right? If so, they might think this reaction is for Randall! That would be horrifying. I’m not attracted to him in the least. My body will never react like that to him. I only feel this attraction for Sean.

Does Sean know how much he affects me? Do I affect him the same way? I think I do, judging by the hardness in his pants whenever we’re together.

That thought makes me even wetter.

My mind continues to stray toward Sean even as I maintain a superficial conversation with the table. Mom and Dad continue to prod Randall into asking me questions, and I answer with short responses that seem to placate everyone but me.

Finally, we finish with dinner, and although dessert is offered, Randall insists he get home to his family. His parents are “waiting up for him,” and it’s “already pretty late.”

According to the clock on our kitchen wall, it’s barely after eight. I guess I’m not the only one with a curfew. It seems Randall doesn’t mind being the obedient son, while I push against my station as the obedient daughter.

“Walk Randall to the door, Maggie,” my mom insists. She smiles like she’s knows some big secret.

“Of course. Come on, Randall.”

I push ahead of him to the front door and step onto the stoop. Randall stands facing me and rubs his palms against his untailored slacks.

“I had a nice time tonight, Maggie,” Randall says slowly. “You seem like a good girl.”

“Thank you.”

He blushes and takes a step forward. His sweaty hands find mine. I force myself not to pull away.

Randall drops his head and kisses my cheek tenderly. It’s such an innocent move, the complete opposite of what Sean would do, that I fight to keep my facial expression passive.

“Can I see you again?” he asks with a smile.

“I should get inside so that my parents don’t worry. We don’t want them to think something sinful is happening out here.”

His face flushes. “You’re right, of course. I’ll have my parents contact yours to set up a date.”