Page 109 of Empty Net

As I expected, she’s standing in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around Lilah. What I didn’t expect was to love seeing them together so much. My fiancée hugs my mother back, her head resting on the older woman’s shoulder, eyes closed like every childhood trauma is being healed in this moment. And for Lilah, that might actually be true.

I love you.

The words rattle against my chest again, wanting to be set free, but I lock them back where they belong, in the recesses of my mind for nobody else but me.

“Hey, now. I want my turn,” my dad says, interrupting them.

My dad replaces my mother, hugging Lilah like she’s part of the family and not someone he’s literally just met.

“Great to meet you, sweetheart,” my dad says, his accent thick on the last word. “I’m looking forward to getting to know the woman who finally got my kid to settle down so his mother can stop driving me nuts with worry that he’s going to end up alone.”

Lilah pulls away with a smile. “It’s so great to meet you. Arthur has told me so much about you.”

My mother looks at me, surprised. She knows how I feel about my first name. Hell, I complained to her about it enough when I was a kid. So she knows Lilah’s casual use of it means something big.

We’ll talk about this later, her gaze says, matching my own.

I nod at her in response, promising her just that.

“What would you like to drink with dinner?” Lilah asks them, turning to the cabinet where I keep my cups like it’s second nature to her. We’ve spent an equal amount of time at my place as we have hers, so I guess it might be at this point. “We’re just about done if you’d like to drop your bags and get comfortable.”

“A beer, if you have it,” my dad requests.

“And iced tea for you, Mama?”

She pats my shoulder as I pass by her. “You know me so well, son.”

We shoo my parents from the kitchen, sending them away to get comfortable in my bedroom while Lilah and I finish making dinner—a simple meal of grilled chicken with a balsamic vinaigrette glaze, roasted rosemary red potatoes, and freshly chopped carrots. It was all Lilah’s idea to make it. She wanted to impress them. I tried telling her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted.

“You’re doing this big thing for me, Fox. Let me do this for you.”

It was my shot to tell her the truth again, but I couldn’t do it. So, I just nodded, helped her grocery shop, and now here we are, playing house with my parents in the other room.

“They’re just like I imagined,” Lilah says as she flips the chicken breast in the cast-iron skillet. I push the carrots around in the pan next to her. “You look just like your mom.”

“I’ve heard that a lot. I’ve never really been sure if I should take it as a compliment. You know, since she’s a woman and all.”

“Oooh. You should grow your hair out more. It’ll be sexy.”

I slide behind her, and I love how her breath stutters the second I do. “Are you saying I’m not already sexy?”

She rests back against me. “I think we both already know I think you’re sexy, Fox.”

“I don’t. Tell me.”

She abandons the chicken, turning around to place her arms around my neck as my hands settle on her waist.

“You’re sexy, Fox. I like your eyes and how they remind me of my favorite chocolate bar.” She presses up on her tiptoes, kissing right beside my eye.

“The one with the crispies in it?”

“That’s the one.” She grins, then kisses the tip of my nose. “I like your nose, especially the scar on the bridge.”

“Got that from Russ. He hit me with one of Regan’s Barbies because I ate his last Pop-Tart.”

“What flavor?”

“Brown sugar.”

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