Page 39

CHAPTER 39

EMILY

M y knee bounces as Dallas drives across the bridge, my heart in the back of my throat. And just when I thought he was oblivious to my inner turmoil, singing along to some old Merle Haggard song, he reaches across and squeezes my thigh. I glance at him to see him smirking to himself, eyes still focused on the road ahead as he says, “Breathe, Goldie.”

Easy for him to say. He has no idea the chaos he’s about to enter into. He’s not related to my parents.

“My mom is going to make such a big deal about it.” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “And my dad will probably take you out to the garage. Oh, God…”

Dallas chuckles, his hand rubbing circles over my thigh. “Baby. It’s fine.”

As Dallas follows the navigation system into the Shore Acres neighborhood, my thundering heart eases some, as it always does whenever I come home. But as we turn onto my parents’ street and pull up to the curb, my eyes narrow when I spot a familiar SUV parked in the drive. You have got to be kidding me. Before I can say anything, like “step on the gas and drive,” the front door flies opens and my mother, my sister, and my sister-in-law appear on the porch, cocktails in hand, waving at us as they rush excitedly down the front steps. Of course Tess and Bron are here. Because why not make it a big family affair?

“Oh my God…” I mutter, glaring out the window as the trio of trouble approach the car.

Dallas chuckles, shutting off the engine. “Come on, Goldie. Let’s get this over with.”

I roll my eyes, forcing myself out of the car.

“Oh, Dallas, it’s so nice to see you again!” My mother practically launches herself at Dallas, wrapping him up in a hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Cole.” Dallas grins, laying it on thick with the manners and the dimples.

“Oh, sweetheart!” Mom waves a hand, blushing profusely, “Mrs. Cole was my mother-in-law and that woman made my life a misery. Call me June.” She beams. “Or Mom!”

Dallas laughs.

I spear my mother with a warning look. “ June is perfectly acceptable…”

Mom rolls her eyes indulgently in my direction before linking her arm through Dallas’s and leading him up the front steps saying something about lasagna.

I walk with Tess and Bron, casting my sister an unimpressed glance.

“What?” She throws her hands up in defense. “Mom called and said we needed to be here for family dinner because you were bringing your boyfriend home.”

“ Not my boyfriend,” I hiss, careful to keep my voice down as we walk inside the house, Mom and Dallas only a few steps ahead.

“Says the woman he’s taking home to Texas to spend Christmas with his family,” Bron murmurs.

I pause, turning slowly, my eyes widening at Bron. She’s usually Switzerland when it comes to Tess and me. I gape at her, and she presses her lips together with a guilty smile .

“Admit it,” Tess sasses with a smug smile. “He’s totally your boyfriend.”

Shrugging off my coat, I roll my eyes as I hang it on the hook next to the front door. “I can’t admit it because… he hasn’t asked me yet.”

“Oh, get real, Emmy. What do you want him to do?” Tess snorts. “Pass you a note that says will you be my girlfriend with a yes and a no box for you to tick?” She rolls her eyes. “This isn’t junior high.”

She has a point. Damn her. Dallas and I are in love. We’re way past the defining the relationship stage, but is he my boyfriend?

I eye Tess’s glass curiously. “Is that an Aperol Spritz?”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling around her straw as she takes a sip.

“Can I have one?” I ask, fully aware that I’m deflecting.

Tess just laughs. She’s so annoying.

“I’ll make you one,” Bron says, squeezing my arm as she walks around me and down the hall toward the kitchen.

I can hear my mother regaling Dallas in the living room, showing him around where I grew up, and as nervous as I am, I can’t help but smile at the way he gives her his full attention. Dallas Shaw is insanely sweet.

“That’s Emmy at her high school graduation!”

I stop dead in my tracks, my spine stiffening as a cold chill runs through me. The photos on the mantle. Specifically my graduation photo. Oh. My. God. I turn and practically run back down the hall and into the living room, nearly tackling my mother to the floor, but it’s too late. Dallas holds the frame, and by the look on his face, he’s seen more than enough. And I want to die.

“In my defense, I was going through an emo phase,” I say, as if the girl with the black box dye, copious layers of eyeliner, and ripped fishnets staring back from the photo isn’t a glaring indicator.

Tess walks in through the archway from the kitchen, laughing out loud as she eyes the photo in Dallas’s hand. “Emmy really thought she was going to marry Pete from Fall Out Boy.”

Dallas flashes me a devious smirk and, leaning in, he pulls me close, whispering in my ear, “What is it with you and ripped tights, Goldie?”

I feel my face flush from the memory of last night, when he’d locked us in the bathroom at Starlight, ripped my tights and fucked me hard and fast against the counter. I playfully shove him, snatching the frame and placing it back on the mantle. He chuckles and grabs me around my waist from behind, kissing my neck and making me giggle, and when we turn around with me still in his arms, it’s only then that I remember Mom and Tess are both still very much here, both watching on with nearly identical expressions on their faces—Mom, mentally planning the wedding announcements, and Tess probably designing the bridesmaid dresses.

I clear my throat, reluctantly stepping away from Dallas and smoothing down my sweater. “Is that Aperol Spritz ready?” I ask, breezing past my sister and into the kitchen.

Half an hour later, we’re all in the dining room, my father sitting at one end of the long table, sipping his beer in silence, regarding Dallas with an unreadable expression on his face. At the opposite end, Dallas sits, sipping his own beer, offering my father a casual grin. It’s awkward to say the least. All I can do is stuff my face with my mother’s lasagna because maybe carbs will help quell the anxiety coursing through me.

“So, Dallas,” Mom starts. “What’s Texas like at this time of year?”

I meet Tess’s eyes across the table, and I can tell she’s wondering the same thing I am; why the hell has she suddenly acquired some sort of weird Texan accent?

Dallas looks at my mother with the kind of smile that tells me even he’s noticed, but he’s too polite to mention it. “Actually, it’s been quite warm the last few days. It was seventy yesterday.”

“Seventy?” Tess balks, horrified. “At Christmas ?”

Dallas chuckles. “Yeah, but tomorrow it’s predicted to reach no higher than thirty-five, so it’s kind of all over the place.”

Mom nudges me. “You’ll need to pack options, Emmy.”

I nod.

“So…” Dad stretches from his end of the table, and I immediately know he’s about to embarrass me, simply by the tone in his voice.

All eyes turn to my father, waiting for him to say whatever it is he’s going to say.

“Stealing my little girl away from us on Christmas, are we?”

Dallas’s gaze flits to me before he sits up a little straighter. “Uh, well… I mean…” He scratches the back of his neck, clearly struggling. “I don’t know if we’d call it stealing .” He chuckles nervously. “I’ll be sure to bring her back in one piece.”

“Taking her away from me without even asking my permission…” Dad arches a brow.

Again, Dallas looks at me like I’m his lifeline.

I roll my eyes, glaring at my father, but Tess speaks before I can.

“He’s taking her to Texas for three days, Dad,” my sister says with a derisive snort in Dad’s direction. “They’re hardly running off to Vegas to get married by an Elvis impersonator.” But right at that moment, as if she’s just realized something, Tess sucks in a breath, her head spinning so fast it’s like that scene from the Exorcist as she spears me with an incredulous look. “Please tell me this is all a ploy and you’re secretly going to Vegas to elope.”

“Oh my God.” I drop my fork against my plate, groaning as I bury my head in my hands.

Beneath the table, I feel Dallas’s big hand touch my thigh with a reassuring squeeze as he chuckles. “No, we’re not going to Vegas,” he says with a wink. “Not this time, at least…”

I snap my head up, meeting his eyes with a warning glower, and he simply sniffs a laugh as he takes a sip from his beer bottle.

“Dallas, why don’t you and me take a little walk out to the garage.”

I grimace, casting my father a sidelong glance as he pushes back from the table, standing. He grabs his beer, waiting for Dallas.

Dallas looks from his unfinished dinner to me, to my mom, to Tess and Bron. When his gaze meets mine again, I give him a little headshake, assuring him it’s nothing and that my dad is just being embarrassing, but as he pushes back on his chair and stands, he looks genuinely nervous, and I feel so bad for him.

“Tell my mom I love her,” Dallas whispers as leans down, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I flash him a smile, watching as he grabs his beer and follows my dad out of the dining room, their footsteps fading. When the sound of the side door opens and closes, my shoulders relax and I look back down at my plate, but then I feel the undeniable weight of all eyes on me, and I glance up to find Mom, Tess, and Bron, looking as if they’re literally about to explode.

“What?” I sigh.

“Oh, he is adorable, Emmy!” Mom cries, placing her hands on her reddening cheeks.

“He’s so hot!” Tess gasps, earning a sideways look from Bron.

Tess slaps her wife’s arm. “Oh, come on. As if you haven’t noticed.”

Bron rolls her eyes. “I mean… for a guy—” She shrugs, offering me a knowing smile. “He’s… kind of okay . I guess.”

I bite back a grin.

“You’re so in love.” Tess squeals.

“What’s the sex like?”

The room falls silent as Tess, Bron, and I all turn to gawk at my mother, but she simply blinks like she didn’t just ask me, her daughter, what sex is like with her… sort of boyfriend.

I could tell my mom that the sex is out of this world. I could tell her it’s the best I’ve ever had, better than I ever thought sex could be. I could tell her that Dallas not only gives me multiple orgasms every time we’re together, but he also makes me squirt. But I don’t tell her any of that because… she’s my sixty-eight-year-old mother . But, as I look at Mom, at Tess and Bron, I can’t hold back my smile as I pick up my glass and take a sip of my second Aperol Spritz.

“I mean, he’s seen me naked,” I say with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.

But the thing is, it is a big deal. It’s a huge deal. And after processing what I’ve just told them, moments later the room erupts in squeals and screams. Tess and Bron jump up from their chairs and run around to me, wrapping their arms around me as Mom cries real tears, hugging us all. And I’m not normally one for theatrics. But like I said. This is a big deal. And these women have been right by my side through all the shit. They know exactly what this means.