Page 50 of Claiming Her Cougar
My mind wanders to the property in Atlantic City I’ve been checking out.Things have progressed a lot more quickly than we expected it to, but I’m thrilled.This is the challenge I’ve been searching for.
As I pull in next to the pool house, I see Mom returned my truck.I glance in the bed and it’s empty, so Dad must have hauled the tree inside already.Flicking on the lights in my living room, I walk to the kitchen to see what I have for dinner.I haven’t been shopping, so it’ll probably be whatever I can forage from my freezer.I fish my ringing cell phone out of my pocket.It’s Mom, and disappointment washes over me, followed closely by guilt.I was hoping it was Mallory.Mom must have been watching for me to get home.
Sighing, I answer.“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey.We’re having tacos for dinner.Want to come over?We have plenty.”
I know that “we have plenty” is code for “bring Mallory with you if she’s there.”I run my hand through my hair.It’s pretty much dry.
“Thanks.I’ll be over in a few.”
I change into jeans and walk over to the main house, letting myself in through the French doors off the patio.
“Just me,” I call out, pulling the door shut behind me.
“Hi, Liam.Can you give me a hand?”Dad calls from the living room.He’s trying to stand up the tree in front of the big front window.
“Sure.”Looking at the evergreen, I admire how full and symmetrical it is.Mom always finds the prettiest trees.“Do you want me to hold it so you can adjust the stand?”
“Just let me know if it looks straight.Your mom got one of those fancy stands where it adjusts by stepping on a pedal.No climbing under and turning the screws.”
“Cool.”I step back and assess it, leaning to view from a variety of angles.“I think it just needs to move a smidge that way.”I gesture to my left.
He makes the adjustment and stands next to me.“Looks good to me.Want a beer?”
“Yeah.”Walking into the kitchen, I press a kiss to Mom’s cheek because it makes her smile.“Smells good.Thanks for the invitation.”
“You know you don’t need an invitation!This is your home.You can bring friends too.There’s always plenty.”
“Thanks.I know.”
Grabbing the platter of tortillas and the carrier that has taco sauce, sour cream, and salsa, I ask, “Table or island?”
“Breakfast nook,” Mom suggests.
We grab the taco stuff and carry it to the table.Before I can even take a bite out of my taco—your basic variety with meat, cheese, and onions—my dad hits me with the probing questions.
“So you were skating today?”Dad asks.
I nod, chewing my first bite.
“Oh, Will, it was wonderful!I wish I had thought to record it, but I was so surprised, it didn’t occur to me,” Mom gushes, tears in her eyes.I didn’t realize it meant that much to her to see me skate again.
“Yeah, felt good.I skated with Logan and Trevor after Thanksgiving and figured I’d do it some more.Get used to being on skates on again.”
“So, Kendall’s friend is Mallory’s brother?”Dad asks.“Small world.I didn’t know Trevor played hockey.Wonder if we were at the same tournaments?”
“He’s a few years younger, so even if we were, we wouldn’t have had much overlap in ice time.”
I pick up my second taco.Skating and showering worked up an appetite in me.But thinking about Mallory is going to cause reactions that aren’t appropriate while sitting at my parents’ table.Gotta move the conversation on to topics that are not Mallory.
“They converted a barn to a rink.Their mother is a chemical engineer and invented a synthetic ice surface, so they use that.No cooling needed, no Zamboni.It’s a suitable surface to skate on.Not as fast as actual ice, but fine for recreation or practice.I’m surprised they don’t use it at some of the outdoor games.It would be ideal for warmer weather.We could have a game at the beach.There’s an anti-glare coating.”I’m sounding like a salesman, so I shut up and start in on taco number two.
“So, Mallory,” Mom starts.
“No,” I say firmly.
“No what?”Dad looks up from his taco.
