Page 108 of Dirty Like Dylan

There were cars all jammed in the driveway, and as we got out of the truck and she smelled the barbecue, and heard all the voices and the screams of kids at play flowing out of the house, she figured it out.

“Oh my God.” She gawked at me. “You didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” I sauntered over and put my arm around her shoulders.

“You brought me to a family barbecue?”

“Pretty much.”

Exactly much.

I didn’t tell her ahead of time, because I had a feeling it might freak her out, or maybe she’d even make some excuse for why she couldn’t make it. But even so, I was surprised by how freaked out she looked.

“Dylan—”

“Dylan, baby! Is that you?” my mom called out from a window somewhere.

“Hey, Mom,” I called back.

“Fuck me. Your mom’s here?”

“She is.” I steered Amber toward the house, getting her moving. She suddenly weighed like a ton of bricks. “This is her house.”

“Oh, shit,” she muttered, as people started spilling from the back yard, heading around to the door on the side of the kitchen. My sisters, Jocelyn and Julie, carrying plates of grilled meat and trailed by a bunch of kids.

“Dylan’s here!” Julie called out when she saw us.

“You’re late,” Jocelyn informed me. “Go help Stan on the grill.”

Then they disappeared into the house with the kids.

“Who was that?” Amber asked, sounding mildly panicked, and probably assuming correctly that the two red-haired women were related to me.

“My sisters. The tall, bossy one is Jocelyn. She’s the oldest. The one with the glasses is Julie.” As we rounded the side of the house and the back yard came into view, I pointed out another redhead supervising the rugrats playing on the patio. “The ridiculously-freckled one is Sam. And that’s Lydia.” I pointed her out; my youngest sister was looking sullen, as usual, her pale, strawberry-blonde hair hanging over her face as she sipped a wine cooler by the barbecue, where my uncle Stan was grilling.

“You have four sisters?” The panic was now edging on terror. I instinctively pulled her closer, wanting to ward off her fears.

“Yup.”

“Um. Any brothers I should know about?”

“Nope. Brothers-in-law, though. That’s Jocelyn’s husband, Clay, and Julie’s boyfriend, Brad.” I pointed out the guys drinking beers in the garage, checking out Brad’s latest work-in-progress, a 1970 Chevelle. “Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you. My cousins are probably in the house, and my nephews and nieces are around her somewhere, too…”

“Holy fucking shit.” Amber grabbed my arm, stopping me just as I started steering her into the yard. “Dylan. I am not gonna remember all these names.”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Just come drink some booze and eat some food. They don’t bite.”

“You don’t understand. I’m terrible with people.” She clung to my arm, and I could feel her hand getting sweaty in mine. “Families make me twitchy. I’m especially terrible with families.”

“Why?”

“Because they make me nervous. I don’t have a normal family, Dylan. We didn’t have family barbecues. We don’t even like each other that much. I’ll feel all awkward and stuff…”

“Don’t.” I took hold of her pretty face, tilting her mouth to mine for a kiss. I brushed my lips over hers, lightly, and felt her soften a bit. “You’re beautiful, Amber Malone. And smart and charming—”

“Charming?” She scoffed.

“Hey. You charmed me.” I ran my thumb over her freckled cheek.

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