shower. He had been rubbing a towel over his head as he descended, and it now hung limply from his hand.
Suzanne mentally berated herself for noticing the breadth of his chest, with the light furring of hair a few shades darker than the honey blond hair on his head. At any other time, the sight would have set her drooling, but with her parents staring at Brandon and him gaping back at them, she couldn’t afford to let his gorgeousness muddle her thinking.
Unfortunately, her brain didn’t seem to be up to more than the single, screaming thought, ‘Oh my God, my parents are here and Brandon is shirtless! What am I going to do?’
The silence became heavy as all four of them stared at each other. Finally, Brandon broke it, coughing a little and tossing the towel over his shoulder. He gave her mother and father a warm smile — a gorgeous, wide, friendly smile — and extended his hand.
“Hey, nice to meet you folks. I’m Brandon. You must be Suzanne’s parents.” There was a faint flush on his cheeks as he shook her father’s hand. Her mother left his hand hanging in the air for a moment, eyeing him from head to toe. She pressed her lips tightly together in a show of disapproval that made Suzanne’s gut clench.
She breathed a soft sigh of relief when her mother took his hand and gave it a brief squeeze.
“Brandon? You’re a… friend of Suzanne’s? She hasn’t mentioned you.”
The flush on Brandon’s cheeks darkened. When her mother dropped his hand, he snagged the towel and twisted it between his big, square hands before flipping it back over his shoulder. He cut a glance at her, his blue eyes a little frantic.
Suzanne mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’, hoping to soften the impact of her mother’s barb.
Brandon chewed his lower lip. “Uh, well, Ms. Headley, we haven’t known each other all that long…”
He seemed to realize how that must sound, given he was standing in her hallway shirtless and having obviously just gotten out of the shower and scrambled to continue. “But, yes, I would hope Suzanne would consider me a friend.”
Her mother’s plucked brows rose the tiniest bit. A muscle in her father’s cheek twitched.
“Yes, well.” Henry Headley brushed a piece of invisible lint from his jacket cuff. “I see you’re busy, Suzanne. You might have mentioned you had dinner plans when we spoke earlier. We wouldn’t have interrupted.”
Suzanne winced. “Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been so busy…” It was a lame attempt at a lie, and everyone in the room knew it. Her gaze slid over to Brandon, and she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes. Her heart felt squeezed.
She slid a little closer to him and touched her knuckles to his forearm. “Brandon’s cooking for me. That delicious jambalaya you smell is all him.” As far as apologies for her bonehead behavior went, it was weak, but Brandon smiled and put an arm around her shoulders.
“There’s enough for everyone,” he offered sweetly.
Her mother’s lashes fluttered as if her brain could not process Brandon’s words. Her father coughed and looked at his watch. “That’s very kind . But we’ve got reservations.” He gave Brandon a thin smile, his emphasis on ‘kind’ making it sound anything but.
“Yes, we should go.” Her mother slid her hand into the crook of her father’s arm.
“Some other time!” Suzanne heard how wobbly her voice was. She couldn’t help it, her insides felt like they were quaking with embarrassment.
Her father made a noncommittal ‘mmm’ noise as he drew her mother toward the front door. The look on his face was the hard, shuttered look he got in a courtroom.
“Oh, Suzanne dear.” Her mother turned back over her shoulder, her eyes flashing. “I’m sure it’s only because you’ve been busy …” She made a point of not looking at Brandon. “But Antoine mentioned that you two hadn’t spoken since your date last week. Do try and give him a call.”
She felt Brandon stiffen beside her, his fingers
Suzanne mentally berated herself for noticing the breadth of his chest, with the light furring of hair a few shades darker than the honey blond hair on his head. At any other time, the sight would have set her drooling, but with her parents staring at Brandon and him gaping back at them, she couldn’t afford to let his gorgeousness muddle her thinking.
Unfortunately, her brain didn’t seem to be up to more than the single, screaming thought, ‘Oh my God, my parents are here and Brandon is shirtless! What am I going to do?’
The silence became heavy as all four of them stared at each other. Finally, Brandon broke it, coughing a little and tossing the towel over his shoulder. He gave her mother and father a warm smile — a gorgeous, wide, friendly smile — and extended his hand.
“Hey, nice to meet you folks. I’m Brandon. You must be Suzanne’s parents.” There was a faint flush on his cheeks as he shook her father’s hand. Her mother left his hand hanging in the air for a moment, eyeing him from head to toe. She pressed her lips tightly together in a show of disapproval that made Suzanne’s gut clench.
She breathed a soft sigh of relief when her mother took his hand and gave it a brief squeeze.
“Brandon? You’re a… friend of Suzanne’s? She hasn’t mentioned you.”
The flush on Brandon’s cheeks darkened. When her mother dropped his hand, he snagged the towel and twisted it between his big, square hands before flipping it back over his shoulder. He cut a glance at her, his blue eyes a little frantic.
Suzanne mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’, hoping to soften the impact of her mother’s barb.
Brandon chewed his lower lip. “Uh, well, Ms. Headley, we haven’t known each other all that long…”
He seemed to realize how that must sound, given he was standing in her hallway shirtless and having obviously just gotten out of the shower and scrambled to continue. “But, yes, I would hope Suzanne would consider me a friend.”
Her mother’s plucked brows rose the tiniest bit. A muscle in her father’s cheek twitched.
“Yes, well.” Henry Headley brushed a piece of invisible lint from his jacket cuff. “I see you’re busy, Suzanne. You might have mentioned you had dinner plans when we spoke earlier. We wouldn’t have interrupted.”
Suzanne winced. “Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been so busy…” It was a lame attempt at a lie, and everyone in the room knew it. Her gaze slid over to Brandon, and she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes. Her heart felt squeezed.
She slid a little closer to him and touched her knuckles to his forearm. “Brandon’s cooking for me. That delicious jambalaya you smell is all him.” As far as apologies for her bonehead behavior went, it was weak, but Brandon smiled and put an arm around her shoulders.
“There’s enough for everyone,” he offered sweetly.
Her mother’s lashes fluttered as if her brain could not process Brandon’s words. Her father coughed and looked at his watch. “That’s very kind . But we’ve got reservations.” He gave Brandon a thin smile, his emphasis on ‘kind’ making it sound anything but.
“Yes, we should go.” Her mother slid her hand into the crook of her father’s arm.
“Some other time!” Suzanne heard how wobbly her voice was. She couldn’t help it, her insides felt like they were quaking with embarrassment.
Her father made a noncommittal ‘mmm’ noise as he drew her mother toward the front door. The look on his face was the hard, shuttered look he got in a courtroom.
“Oh, Suzanne dear.” Her mother turned back over her shoulder, her eyes flashing. “I’m sure it’s only because you’ve been busy …” She made a point of not looking at Brandon. “But Antoine mentioned that you two hadn’t spoken since your date last week. Do try and give him a call.”
She felt Brandon stiffen beside her, his fingers
Similar Books
