Page 47 of Embers of You
I note the grimace at the word family, and feel like there’s more about that than she’s letting on. However, I want her to come more than just because Ma wants her there. I feel like I’ll need the distraction. I haven’t been around my dad for an extended amount of time in years, and though he suggested this, I feel like the dinner will be anything but smooth.
“It’s not for me,” I tell her. “It’s for my ma. She’s sick,” I choke on the last word, but do my best to hide it. “She wants you to come with.”
“Oh,” she sighs, looking down at her feet.
“So, will you come?”
She hesitates before nodding slightly. “But, only for your mom. Not for you.”
“Good.” I nod. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
As I leave I don’t miss the way her gaze softens.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”
I walk out before she has the chance to change her mind, and can’t wipe the smile off my face. It may not be the date I thought I would get with her, but it’s something. I can only hope this one dinner won’t scare her away for good.
Even if it does, she’s right about me being persistent and I won’t be giving up any time soon.
CHAPTER 23
Sutton
“Don’t lookat me like that,” I tell Bennet who’s watching me get ready to go to dinner with Jameson and his parents. I don’t know how I ended up in this position, but there’s no way I can back out now.
Even if I’ve thought about it multiple times over the last several hours.
It’s just a dinner, and it’s not even for him. It’s for his mom, who was really sweet when I met her. It makes me believe that maybe Jameson really is as good as he seems when he was raised by a woman like that.
Though he may be sweet, I saw a glimpse of another side to him the other day. The day I threw caution to the wind, let my mind turn off and just act on pure instinct, which at that moment was to feel good. It worked almost too well because every time I think about how it felt to be on his lap I’m tempted to relive the entire moment. The way his lips felt on mine, how I was so turned on I could practically cry as I rubbed against him. The low moan he let out when we both found our release without our skin even touching.
The feeling was already so strong, I can only imagine how strong it would be if we really got the chance to take things further.
Which is why we can’t.
And why this dinner tonight doesn’t count as a date. It won’t lead to anything else other than making his mom happy, and maybe a few laughs.
What it will not do, is tempt me any closer to Jameson Turner.
Jameson’s truck pulls up outside, and for another two seconds I debate telling him I changed my mind, or that I’m violently ill. Anything to get me out of this, but Bennet nudges my hand, something he often does to get pets on the top of his head, and I look down and see his big brown eyes looking at me. It’s his silent encouragement. “Fine, I’ll go,” I tell him with a groan, grabbing my purse and walking out the front door.
I’m greeted by Jameson walking toward me, and I inwardly groan at how good he looks. The white button down is so simple, but hugs his frame in a way that should be obscene. The black slacks make my knees weak and I never thought I’d have such a visceral reaction to somepants.
Okay, aside from grey sweatpants I suppose, but those are obscene no matter who’s wearing them.
“You look gorgeous,” he tells me, and I scoff, looking down at my simple sundress, which compared to him seems underdressed.
“Thanks,” I murmur, and as he takes my hand, my eyes shoot up to his. “You said this wasn’t a date.”
“It’s not, my parents are in the car. Friends can’t hold hands?”
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as we walk toward his truck, and I want to argue that no, friends can’t hold hands, but it feels too good. It’s also short lived as we approach the car and I start to step toward the backseat.
“You’re up front with me,” he says.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll ride in the back.”
“The back is taken,” his mom says from the now open window. “You’re the guest, you get the front, sweetie.”
