Page 76 of The Hot Shot

“Yes, sir.” Because this man exudes authority without even trying. “You must be Finn’s dad, Captain Mannus.”

He helps me out of the Jeep even though I don’t need it, and then shakes my hand with one firm pump. “Finn has never brought a woman friend home before. Which means you’re special, Ms. Copper. Call me Sean.”

“Sean. I’m Chess.”

With a nod, he gestures toward the house. “This way. Meg will be fawning over her boy for a good while more.”

“I heard that,” Finn’s mother says from behind us.

Up close, Finn’s mother is beautiful in that golden, eternally youthful way of Californian women. I don’t know if it’s something in the air or all the excellent plastic surgeons who live here, but I want to look half as good when I’m her age.

“Finn’s been telling me all about you, Chess. I’m so glad you could make it.”

Finn got his blue eyes from her. And her smiling mouth. We are of the same height, and when she shakes my hand, her smile is genuine, but her eyes search my face as if looking for internal flaws.

I don’t resent her for being protective. I know she loves her son. But having never met a man’s family before, I find myselfwanting to squirm. I can only imagine how she sees me—pale skin, black hair with colored tips, tattoo on my arm. My white halter top and rose patterned A-line skirt are feminine, but they’re no match for the casual elegance she manages to pull off with her cream-colored slacks and linen top.

“Thank you for including me in your holiday.” There, that was polite. I can do polite and mannerly.

Finn rests his hand on my lower back. “All right, all right. Can we get inside? I’m starving.”

“You ate a fish taco on the way here,” I say with a half eye roll. In truth, it had been impressive the way he ate that taco while driving. Not a drop spilled or his attention from the road compromised. But then his hand-eye coordination is better than most. And Finnneverwastes good food.

“That taco was tiny, Chess. It was gone in two bites.”

“Well, with the way you ate it, yes—” I cut myself off, remembering belatedly that I’m meeting his freaking parents.

But Sean merely gives me a wink so quick, I almost miss it.

I let out a breath and tell myself to relax. I’m nervous, which is a new experience for me. Not one I like. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to make a good impression.

Inside, the house is open and airy, with vaulted, beamed ceilings painted white, shiplap walls, and multiple picture windows framing the sea. The furniture is big and comfortable, California casual. It’s like we’ve stepped into a design magazine. And yet there are signs of a well-lived life everywhere. Framed pictures of family on the tables, knickknacks from exotic ports of call.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Finn’s mom.

She smiles wide. “Thank you, Chess. Let’s get you situated, and then we can have drinks on the patio.”

Finn is back at my side, proprietary hand on my shoulder. “I’ll show her, Mom.”

There’s an awkward beat of silence in the room, and I trulywant to elbow Finn in the gut. I have no idea if his mom had planned to room us together, but the fact that he’s made it clear that we are is mortifying. And, sadly, something I hadn’t really thought about with this whole relationship farce.

“Ah... yes, of course,” Meg says with a small smile my way.

Wrapping my arm around Finn’s waist, I smile back like a dolt, even as I surreptitiously pinch his side. He twitches, then presses his arm against my hand to keep me from attacking again. Nice block, but I’ll get him in the room.

Aware of his parents watching us go, I keep quiet as he leads me down a long hall and into a bedroom at the far end of the house. I have a quick impression of clean, white furniture, and blue sea views before I pounce, pinching his little nipple.

“Ow!” He dances away scowling as he closes the door behind us. “What the hell is up with all the pinching?”

“You might as well have peed on my leg back there,” I hiss.

Finn rubs his chest and frowns some more. “What are you talking about?”

“Out there.” I gesture to the door. “Did it occur to you that your mom might have wanted to place us in separate rooms?”

“What are we, sixteen?” He looks appalled. “We’re supposed to be together. There is no way I wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed with my girl. Mom knows that.”

“Are you sure about that? And your dad is military...”