his scruffy cheek. Walking me to the door would have caused me to invite him in, and I didn’t know if I could then keep my hands off him any longer.
He’d brought the back of my hand to his mouth and kissed it before he asked, “Have lunch with me on Sunday?”
“Sure.” I’d smiled. I would see him again in two days. “Where do you want to go?”
“I know a place. Wear a dress.” He’d smirked and pushed my hair behind my ear.
“Where are we going?” His words had piqued my interest.
“It’s a surprise.” His fingers had cupped my neck as he’d pulled me in for another kiss. His tongue had licked my lips and any thought of where we were going had flown out the window.
I twirled around again and ran my hand down my dress. I wanted a second opinion, but Leslie spent the night with Harry and hadn’t come home to calm my nerves or give me her stamp of approval. Harry had promised her that this time around things would be different. I wanted to believe he was telling her the truth.
Sighing, I brushed my hands on the soft cotton as I gazed in the full-length mirror. “You don’t look so bad, Em,” I said, giving myself a mental pep talk.
Applying a coat of clear lip gloss to match my natural makeup, I heard the doorbell ring. The butterflies in my stomach had grown since the last time they were in there, and I was pretty sure they enlarged even more as I peeked through the peephole.
Weston stood with his hands shoved into the back pockets of his dark blue jeans. The Converse I had seen him in so many times had been replaced by boat shoes, and a fitted, light blue button-down hugged his chest.
I bit the inside of my lip to contain my happiness. I had seen him two days ago, and though we had spoken since then, I missed him. Leaping off my step, I flew into his arms. My hands entwined around his neck as I placed a kiss on his lips, and he moaned before he opened his mouth for me. His hands clasped my waist, twirling me around, and I laughed.
Weston lowered my feet to the ground, his stormy gray eyes scanning my body. “You look perfect.”
I closed the front door and laced our fingers together. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Holding the car door open for me, he replied, “It’s about an hour and a half away, but don’t you worry, I’ve got something for you.”
When Weston climbed into the driver side, he pulled out a CD from the glove compartment and slid it into his player. “What’s on here?” I asked.
“The classics.” He slid the CD into the player. It was a mix of classic rock bands that had played with my father at one point or another throughout his career. My heart fluttered faster at the image of Weston putting this together for me.
As the songs played, the miles passed, and before I knew it, we were pulling up to a house in Temecula. Weston pulled his car into a pebbled stone driveway.
I looked over at Weston. “This doesn't look like a restaurant.”
“It's not.” He shut the car off. “It's my mother's house.” He winked at me before pushing his door open.
My stomach dropped. “What!” His mother? We had driven almost two hours to go to his mother's house? My eyes scanned my dress. Was it too short? Shit!
“I told you that night at Sessions that I wanted to bring you home to meet my mother,” he said as he held his door open.
“But…”
My sweaty palms brushed my dress. What would his mother think of me? I had never met a guy’s mom before. Technically, I had never been in a relationship before. Were Weston and I even in a relationship?
Weston stepped out of the car and jogged around to my side. He pulled my door open and gave me his hand. “You look beautiful, Emilia, and my family is going to love you.”
Family!
As we walked down the pebbled driveway, children’s screams echoed and a door slammed shut. What was I getting into? Footfalls could be heard slamming against the deck that was visible in the backyard.
“Uncle
He’d brought the back of my hand to his mouth and kissed it before he asked, “Have lunch with me on Sunday?”
“Sure.” I’d smiled. I would see him again in two days. “Where do you want to go?”
“I know a place. Wear a dress.” He’d smirked and pushed my hair behind my ear.
“Where are we going?” His words had piqued my interest.
“It’s a surprise.” His fingers had cupped my neck as he’d pulled me in for another kiss. His tongue had licked my lips and any thought of where we were going had flown out the window.
I twirled around again and ran my hand down my dress. I wanted a second opinion, but Leslie spent the night with Harry and hadn’t come home to calm my nerves or give me her stamp of approval. Harry had promised her that this time around things would be different. I wanted to believe he was telling her the truth.
Sighing, I brushed my hands on the soft cotton as I gazed in the full-length mirror. “You don’t look so bad, Em,” I said, giving myself a mental pep talk.
Applying a coat of clear lip gloss to match my natural makeup, I heard the doorbell ring. The butterflies in my stomach had grown since the last time they were in there, and I was pretty sure they enlarged even more as I peeked through the peephole.
Weston stood with his hands shoved into the back pockets of his dark blue jeans. The Converse I had seen him in so many times had been replaced by boat shoes, and a fitted, light blue button-down hugged his chest.
I bit the inside of my lip to contain my happiness. I had seen him two days ago, and though we had spoken since then, I missed him. Leaping off my step, I flew into his arms. My hands entwined around his neck as I placed a kiss on his lips, and he moaned before he opened his mouth for me. His hands clasped my waist, twirling me around, and I laughed.
Weston lowered my feet to the ground, his stormy gray eyes scanning my body. “You look perfect.”
I closed the front door and laced our fingers together. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Holding the car door open for me, he replied, “It’s about an hour and a half away, but don’t you worry, I’ve got something for you.”
When Weston climbed into the driver side, he pulled out a CD from the glove compartment and slid it into his player. “What’s on here?” I asked.
“The classics.” He slid the CD into the player. It was a mix of classic rock bands that had played with my father at one point or another throughout his career. My heart fluttered faster at the image of Weston putting this together for me.
As the songs played, the miles passed, and before I knew it, we were pulling up to a house in Temecula. Weston pulled his car into a pebbled stone driveway.
I looked over at Weston. “This doesn't look like a restaurant.”
“It's not.” He shut the car off. “It's my mother's house.” He winked at me before pushing his door open.
My stomach dropped. “What!” His mother? We had driven almost two hours to go to his mother's house? My eyes scanned my dress. Was it too short? Shit!
“I told you that night at Sessions that I wanted to bring you home to meet my mother,” he said as he held his door open.
“But…”
My sweaty palms brushed my dress. What would his mother think of me? I had never met a guy’s mom before. Technically, I had never been in a relationship before. Were Weston and I even in a relationship?
Weston stepped out of the car and jogged around to my side. He pulled my door open and gave me his hand. “You look beautiful, Emilia, and my family is going to love you.”
Family!
As we walked down the pebbled driveway, children’s screams echoed and a door slammed shut. What was I getting into? Footfalls could be heard slamming against the deck that was visible in the backyard.
“Uncle
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